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"  Immediately  shutting  the  door  upon  her,  Willie  stood  alone  with 
liis  infuriated  father." 


p  84. 


WIN  AND  WEAR 


NEW  YORK: 
ROBERT   CARTER   AND  BROTHERS, 

Ho.   680   BROADWAY. 
1867. 


Entered  according  to  Act  ot  Congress,  in  the  year  1860,  by 
ROBERT  CARTER  &  BROTHERS, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Southern  District  ol 
New  York. 


EDWARD  O.  JENKINS, 
printer  *  Stettotgpr, 


CONTENTS. 


L-THE  BIVAL8, 6 

IL— WILLIE'S  HOME, 90 

IIL— THE  EXAMINATION, 48 

IV.— PLANS  FOR  WILLIE, 66 

V.— THE  MILL, 88 

VI.— JERRY, 108 

VIL-LATIN  GRAMMAR 124 

VIIL-THE  OLD  TRUNK, 146 

IX.— THE  BEAN-FIELD, 160 

X.— THE  DISAPPOINTMENT, ITT 

XL— THE  UNEXPECTED  VISITOR 194 

XII.— TRIALS 21T 

XIIL— SICKNESS  AND  DEATH, 248 

XIV.— THE  CONCLUSION, 887 


WIN   AND   WEAR 


I. 


IN  the  crowded  school-room  of  the 
of  Belden's  Falls,  a  class  of  boys  was 
called  out  to  recite.  The  clock  from  the 
steeple  of  the  church  just  by  had  long 
since  struck  the  hour  of  eleven,  and  the  care- 
less, indolent  way  in  which  the  scholars  at 
their  desks  were  turning  over  their  dog- 
eared leaves,  showed  that  their  attention  and 
interest  were  much  more  riveted  upon  that 
same  steeple  than  upon  their  books.  Even  the 
class  under  the  eye  of  a  strict  teacher,  were 
more  intent  upon  the  expected  chimes,  than 
upon  their  recitation,  when  the  attention  of  all 

"      1*  (6) 


6  WIN   AND  WEAR. 

was  suddenly  arrested  by  a  trial  of  skill  be- 
tween two  of  the  boys.  It  was  reciting  the 
Rules  of  Syntax,  from  beginning  to  end,  without 
misplacing  or  missing  a  single  word.  * 

The  combatants  were  James  Ashton,  and 
Willie  Sumner.  James  was  a  large,  well- 
dressed  boy  of  twelve.  Willie  was  ten,  quite 
small,  and  his  patched  clothes  told  both  of 
neatness  and  poverty. 

James  had  dark  eyes  and  crisp  black  hair, 
curling  all  over  his  head.  He  had  very  red 
cheeks,  and  a  pleasant,  frank,  intelligent  look, 
which  made  every  one  call  him  a  handsome 
boy.  Willie  had  eyes  blue  as  the  summer  sky, 
and  almost  as  deep ;  light  brown  hair  which 
scarcely  waved  over  his  forehead  ;  and  a  thin, 
pale  face,  reminding  one  forcibly  of  some  of 
those  sweet  angels  which  float  halfway  between 
heaven  and  earth,  in  many  of  the  pictures  of 
the  Madonna.  James  was  the  largest,  and 
Willie  the  smallest  boy  in  the  class  ;  this  made 
the  contest  more  noticeable. 


THE   RIVALS.  7 

There  was  to  be  a  public  examination  in 
three  weeks :  this  grammar  lesson  was  the  first 
of  the  reviews,  and  both  the  teacher  and  pupils 
were  desirous  that  a  good  beginning  should 
ensure  a  good  ending.  Every  boy  but  James 
and  Willie  had  failed  already,  but  neither  of 
these  had  so  far  missed  one  word.  As  they 
proceeded  with  their  prompt  and  correct  an- 
swers, the  scene  became  very  exciting — you 
could  have  heard  a  pin  drop.  The  children's 
eyes  followed  the  boys'  voices,  as  if  they  con- 
tained a  spell,  and  gradually  flushed  faces,  and 
eager,  half-parted  lips,  told  of  the  intense  sym- 
pathy which  exists  in  the  child  world.  "  Twenty- 
first  Rule,  James ! "  said  the  teacher,  Mr. 
Lane,  in  a  voice  scarcely  less  excited  than 
James's  own. 

This  rule  had  always  been  a  difficult  one  to 
James.  He  had  spent  more  time  in  commit- 
ting it  than  on  all  the  others,  but  when  he 
closed  his  book  and  tried  to  repeat  it,  the  words 
would  get  misplaced.  He  did  not  understand, 


8  WIN  AND   WEAR. 

and  had  no  clue  by  which  to  connect  it. 
So  "  the  relations,  connections,  and  depend- 
encies intended/'  arranged  themselves  accord- 
ing to  any  "  but  the  best  usages  of  language." 
As  soon  as  his  fears  were  realized,  and  he 
found  the  rule  had  been  given  him,  he  became 
confused,  his  eyes  wandered  quickly  from  Mr. 
Lane  to  Willie,  and  then  back  again,  and  the 
color  rushed  into  his  face. 

Mr.  Lane  saw  the  trouble  at  once,  and  with 
the  wish  of  helping  him,  said  over  again,  slowly, 
"  The  Twenty-first  General  Rule." 

"  The  different  parts  of  a  sentence,"  began 
James,  "  should  be  made  to  harmonize  with 
each  other,  and  should  be  so  constructed" — 
several  hands  were  raised  at  once ;  James 
stopped — he  knew  that  he  had  missed. 

"  You  have  recited  so  finely,"  said  Mr.  Lane, 
"  that  you  have  deserved  another  trial ;  Veep 
cool,  and  begin  again." 

James  hesitated.  "  Yes!  yes ! "  said  a  num- 
ber of  voices  at  once,  "  begin  again — it's  fair." 


THE  RIVALS.  9 

"No,  it  is  not  fair,"  said  James,  stoutly  ;  "  I 
missed  as  much  as  the  other  boys  have,  and  I 
had  rather  not  go  on." 

"  You  must — go  ahead  1 "  shouted  the  boys. 

"  Silence,  boys  !  "  said  Mr.  Lane.  "  James 
has  missed.  I  think  he  is  perfectly  right  and 
noble  in  his  choice.  Willie,  can  you  repeat 
it?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Willie,  hanging  his  head. 

"  Repeat  it,  then." 

"  I  should  rather  begin  here  to-morrow,  if 
you  please,  Mr.  Lane,"  answered  Willie. 

"  No,  no,  noiv"  said  the  boys  ;  the  sense  of 
justice  fast  succeeding  their  former  generosity. 

"  I  should  prefer  you  would  recite  it  to-day," 
said  Mr.  Lane,  gently. 

Willie  immediately  obeyed,  and  repeated  it 
without  a  mistake. 

"  Now,  boys,"  said  Mr.  Lane,  addressing  the 
class,  "you  may  take  your  choice.  Willie 
shall,  if  he  is  willing — I  will  not  compel  him 
to  it — go  on  and  finish  these  rules  alone,  or 


10  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

wait  until  to-morrow,  and  try  again  with 
James." 

"  To-day !  to-day  !  "  answered  the  class. 

"  Willie,  what  do  you  say  ?  "  continued  Mr. 
Lane.  "  By  going  on  to-day,  you  run  the  risk 
of  a  failure  ;  but  it  will  be  more  fair  to  James. 
By  stopping  now,  you  will  have  a  chance  to 
review.  You  may  do  as  you  please." 

"  I  will  go  on  if  you  wish,''  said  Willie. 

"  No,  I  do  not  ivisli.  You  shall  do  as  you 
please.  This  is  only  fair  to  you." 

"  I  will  go  on." 

The  school-room  was  again  still.  The  chil- 
dren listened  with  almost  breathless  interest, 
as  the  soft,  low  tones  of  Willie's  voice  suc- 
ceeded, without  pause  or  hesitation,  to  the 
number  of  the  rule  called  for  by  Mr.  Lane  ; 
and  when  the  last  word  of  the  last  rule  was 
said,  the  boys  clapped  and  stamped,  as  if  at 
pome  funny  exhibition.  To  his  great  credit  be 
it  told,  that  no  one  exhibited  truer  pleasure 
than  James.  Mr.  Lane  glanced  from  him  to 


THE  RIVALS.    .  11 

Willie  with  an  expression  of  greater  satisfac- 
tion than  had  been  called  forth  even  by  the 
perfect  recitation.  "  They  are  noble  boys,"  he 
thought ;  "  God  help  me  to  make  men  of  them  1" 

Twelve  long  loud  strokes  had  that  belfry 
bell  sent  forth,  but  not  a  child  in  school  had 
noticed  them.  They  were  therefore  not  a  little 
surprised  when,  with  a  word  of  apology  for 
having  detained  them  beyond  school-hours 
they  were  dismissed. 

What  a  noisy  set  they  were !  as,  having  all 
quietly  passed  the  threshold,  they  broke  forth 
into  the  expression  of  their  pent-up  feelings. 

"  Hurra  for  Willie  Sumner !  Three  cheers 
for  Billy !  Wells'  Grammar  for  ever !  and  the 
everlasting  rules  of  syntax!  Here's  to  the 
nominative,  possessive,  and  objective,  and 
Willie !  Willie !  Three  cheers  for  the  young 
grammarian!  Willie  Wells  for  ever!"  "A 
new  name !  a  name !  "  shouted  the  girls,  in 
shriller  tones  than  the  boys  ;  "  Willie  Wells  ; 
not  Willie  Sumner  any  longer ! " 


12  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

Poor  little  Willie  1  It  was  a  ckar,  cold  win- 
ter morning.  The  snow  lay  white  and  deep, 
all  orcr  the  ground.  The  long,  pendent  icicles 
from  the  roof  of  the  school-house,  over  their 
heads,  told  that  it  had  been  long  since  the  sun 
had  exerted  the  power  of  his  warm  beams ;  and 
the  child  had  left  the  hot  school-room,  shivering 
with  excitement.  Now  the  piercing  air  seemed 
as  if  it  struck  through  his  thin  garment  with 
actual  blows  ;  and,  amid  the  general  glee  and 
excitement,  he  stood  pale,  trembling,  and  silent. 

"  Let  us  take  the  largest  sled,  and  all  tackle 
on  for  horses,  and  drag  Willie  home,"  pro- 
posed a  stout,  stupid  boy,  who  could  only  com 
prehend  that  a  lesson  had  been  recited  which, 
for  some  reason,  had  given  pleasure. 

"  Agreed  !  agreed  !  James  Ashton's  sled  is 
the  best  one.  Come  I  hand  on,  Jem." 

"  All  ready,"  answered  James,  as  he  drew 
his  sled  directly  in  front  of  Willie.  "  Step  on, 
Willie  ;  we  can't  chair  you,  as  they  do  the  boya 
in  Eton  ;  but  we  will  sled  you." 


THE   RIVALS.  13 

Willie  stepped  back.  "  I  had  rather  walk, 
thank  you,  James,"  he  said.  "  I  will  help  draw 
you  ;  jump  on  yourself." 

"  No,  no  !  Willie  Wells  or  no  one,"  said  the 
authoritative  voice  of  Young  America. 

"  Then  no  one,"  said  James,  who  saw  how 
pale  and  cold  Willie  was.  "  Let  us  change  our 
fun,  and  try  a  coast.  Willie  can  beat  at  gram- 
mar ;  see  who  will  beat  at  sliding.  Here,  sir ! " 
he  continued,  addressing  Willie,  "  if  you  won't 
ride,  catch  hold  and  draw.  Whoever  reaches 
Brown's  hill  first,  is  the  best  fellow." 

Boys,  like  men,  follow  a  leader  without  ques- 
tion or  comment ;  so  away  the  whole  crowd 
started,  some  few  only  stopping  to  seat  their 
favorite  little  girls  upon  their  sleds. 

Other  boys  could  beat  our  young  students 
at  play,  if  not  at  work  ;  so  it  happened  that 
James  and  Willie  were  not  the  "  best  fellows," 
but  came  last  to  the  hill.  Perhaps  they  stopped 
to  talk  upon  the  road ;  perhaps  James,  with 
his  intuitive  delicacy,  saw  that  the  quick-breath- 
2 


14  WIN   AND    WEAR. 

ing  and  trembling  boy  that  held  the  rope  with 
him  had  exhausted  what  little  physical  strength 
he  had.  At  any  rate,  he  seemed  to  have  be- 
come the  protector  of  his  rival,  and  to  care  for 
him  almost  as  if  he  had  been  the  pretty  sister 
of  whom  he  was  so  fond,  and  whose  clear,  sil- 
very laugh  he  could  hear  now,  over  and  above 
that  of  all  the  other  noisy  group. 

"  There,  Willie,"  he  said,  as  they  reached  the 
liill,  "  you  take  my  sled,  and  give  Lina  a  ride  ; 
I  am  going  down  with  little  Tom  Perkins  ;  he 
has  got  a  fast  team  there,  and  the  hill  is  too 
steep  for  him  alone  :  he  will  break  his  neck  as 
sure  as  he  tries  it.  Lina !  Lina ! "  he  called  to 
his  sister,  "  come !  Willie  Sumner  is  going  to 
draw  you  ;  make  haste." 

Lina  set  her  small  tin-pail,  which  had  con- 
tained her  dinner,  but  was  emptied  at  recess, 
down  upon  the  snow,  and,  quite  conscious  of 
being  the  envy  of  the  girls,  as  she  was  to  ride 
with  the  hero  of  the  day,  lost  no  time  in  seat- 
ing herself  upon  the  sled  behind  Willie. 


THE  RIVALS.  15 

"Put  your  arms  around  me,  and  hold  on 
tight,"  whispered  Willie  ;  "  for  we  shall  go  like 
split."  Lina  obeyed  silently.  If  the  truth  must 
be  told,  she  had  a  slight  feeling  of  awe  as  she 
approached  the  boy  who  had  been  victorious 
over  James.  James  was  so  smart  and  so 
good, — everybody — her  father  and  mother  and 
everybody  else — said  so  ;  what  sort  of  a  being 
must  he  be  who  was  better  than  James  ?  She 
looked  earnestly  into  Willie's  face.  The  boy 
saw  that  she  was  troubled,  and  whispered 
again,— 

"  Lina,  I  would  have  missed  when  James  did, 
but  I  couldn't,  you  see,  without  doing  what  was 
not  true.  I  am  sorry,  very  sorry  ;  indeed,  you 
can't  tell  how  badly  I  feel  about  it." 

"  James  don't  though,"  said  Lina,  looking  at 
her  brother  ;  "  he  seems  just  as  if  he  was  glad 
you  had  beaten  him." 

"  That  is  what  troubles  me  most ;  he  is  so 
generous  and  good,  that  he  ought  to  be  first  in 
every  thing." 


16  WIN   AND  WEAR. 

"  I  love  him  best/7  said  Lina,  simply. 

"  So  do  I,"  answered  Willie,  the  tears  com- 
ing into  his  eyes.  "  He  is  what  I  call  a  first- 
rate  fellow.  I  believe,"  he  continued,  lowering 
his  voice  still  more,  "  he  is  like  George  Wash- 
ington when  he  was  a  boy.  Don't  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  or  like  Jesus  when  he  went  up  to  the 
temple,"  added  Lina,  in  the  same  tone. 

"  Oh !  no,  Lina,  not  like  Jesus,  for  he  was  a 
sinless  child,  you  know." 

"  So  is  James  ;  he  never  does  what  mother 
tells  him  not  to." 

"But  Jesus  was — was  different,  I  am  very 
sure  ;  though  I  do  love  James  dearly." 

"  Well,  then,"  said  Lina,  "  say  George  Wi  sh- 
ington,  though  he  cut  his  father's  fruit-tree  once 
with  his  little  hatchet ;  and  that  I  am  sure 
James  would  not  do." 

Their  further  conversation  was  interrupted 
by  the  starting  of  the  sled.  Away  it  flew  as  if 
it  were  in  close  and  intimate  communion  with 
its  precious  freight,  and  bounded  over  the 


THE   RIVALS.  17 

glassy  surface  instinct  with  the  life  and  joy  of 
the  young  hearts  who  gave  to  it  so  warm  a 
portion  of  their  fresh,  beating  love.  Beautiful 
"  Snowbird !  "  it  seemed  to  be  bearing  these 
children  on  its  outspread  wings,  skimming 
along  as  gracefully  as  if  it  was  in  another  and 
lighter  element,  and  was  in  reality  the  very 
bird  for  whom  it  was  named. 

James  passed  them  on  their  way  down.  He 
could  only  smile  and  nod,  for  he  was  holding 
fast  on  to  little  Tommy,  and  guiding  his  some- 
what erratic  "  Comet,"  while  with  a  skilful 
toucli  of  his  foot  he  sent  the  slight  craft  on, 
on,  until  it  passed  every  competitor,  and  came 
first  to  the  piece  of  ice  which  formed  the  goal. 
"  Comet "  always  "  beat "  when  James  was  upon 
it 

"  Can't  you  get  there  next  time  as  soon  as 
James,"  whispered  Lina,  as  if  half  ashamed  of 
the  request 

"  No,"  said  Willie,  in  the  same  tone—"  Comet 
is  faster  than  Snowbird,  and  James  is  stronger 


18  WIN  AND   WEAR. 

and  can  steer  better  than  I ;  but  I  will 
take  Tom  here  and  you  shall  go  on  Comet 
next  time." 

"  I  had  rather  stay  here,"  said  Lina,  blushing  : 
"  I  like  Snowbird  best.  It  is  the  prettiest  name, 
don't  you  think  so  ?  '• 

A  noble  action,  though  it  may  not  be  pointed 
out,  or  recognized  in  words,  will  always  exert  a 
strong  and  active  influence.  No  one  had  said, 
"  James  Ashton  is  a  generous,  noble  boy.  See, 
he  has  risen  above  all  envy  or  jealousy,  he  re- 
joices in  .the  success  of  his  rival ;"  but  the  boys 
all /eft  it.  They  knew  that  they  had  that  day 
been  taught  a  lesson,  more  impressively  than 
by  any  other  way.  There  was  not  one  among 
them,  who  would  not  have  blushed  to  have 
done  anything  mean  or  unkind :  the  whole 
tone  of  feeling  and  action  was  elevated,  by  the 
goodness  and  kindness  of  their  handsome  play- 
fellow ;  and  as  time  after  time  they  watched 
his  little  sled  shoot  first  upon  the  opposite 
bank,  they  cheered  and  clapped  him  with  as 


THE  RIVALS.  19 

much  enthusiasm  as  they  had,  a  half  hour  be- 
fore, the  successful  grammarian. 

Boys  are  quick  to  see  and  acknowledge 
merit,  whether  of  the  head  or  heart.  There  is 
no  class  of  beiugs  in  the  world,  who  more  fully 
concur  in  the  justice  and  truth  of  the  old  adagfy 
Win  and  Wear. 


n. 


IT  is  not  at  all  improbable  that  many  mothers 
in  Belden's  Falls  looked  up  and  down  the 
street  several  times  for  the  truant  children, 
whose  dinner  was  waiting  for  them,  before 
they  made  their  appearance,  and  it  would  be 
quite  amusing  if  we  could  know  the  different 
ways  in  which  they  were  received  ;  but  as  we 
cannot,  we  must  be  content  to  follow  Willie, 
as,  having  left  Lina  and  the  sled  at  James 
Ashton's  door,  he  turned  off  the  main  street  to 
the  lane  leading  to  his  father's  house. 

The  house  was  quite  out  of  the  village,  —  a 
small,  one  story  brown  house,  without  a 
single  thing  to  give  it  a  homelike,  or  com- 
fortable look.  It  had  no  yard,  no  barn  or 
woodshed,  no  neat  wood-pile.  An  old  oak 
tree  threw  out  its  bare  brawny  arms  over  it, 

(20) 


WILLIE'S  HOME.  21 

us  if  it  would  fain  do  its  best  to  shelter  and 
protect  it ;  and  the  cheerful  snow  piled  itself 
up  warmly  and  snugly  above  the  loose  foun- 
dation stones,  crept  even  to  the  low  bedroom 
window,  and  laid  its  white  cheek  against  the 
cracked  panes.  A  feeble  blue  flame  curled  up 
from  the  leaning  chimney  ;  it  was  very  pale 
and  flickering,  and,  as  Willie's  eye  first  fell 
upon  it,  with  his  mind  and  nerves  in  a  state  of 
unnatural  excitement,  he  could  not  but  think 
how  much  it  seemed  like  his  own  life,  anxious  to 
ascend,  yet  faint,  and  falling  back.  "  But  see," 
he  said  aloud,  "  it  does  not  fall  to  the  ground  ; 
it  only  sinks  a  little,  spreads  out,  and  rises 
again  :  so  can  I, — I  will  not  be  discouraged  ; 
down ,  down,  but  up  ,  up,  again."  Willie  stop- 
ped: a  sound  came  from  the  house,  low,  in- 
distinct at  first,  like  that  of  an  animal  who 
was  growling  preparatory  to  a  spring,  but  in- 
creasing rapidly  into  a  yell,  at  once  human, 
and  yet  so  inhuman,  that  no  one  unaccustomed 
to  it  could  have  imagined  from  what  it  could 


22  WIN    vND   WEAR. 

have  come.  Willie  knew  it  well — it  was  the 
shriek  uttered  by  his  little  deaf  and  dumb 
sister,  when  angry,  or  suffering.  He  quickened 
his  steps :  there  came  another  and  another 
scream.  Hastily  pushing  open  the  door,  the 
boy's  eyes  fell  upon  a  scene  which,  to  the 
latest  hour  of  his  life,  he  will  never  forget. 
He  seemed  to  take  it  all  in,  and  comprehend  it, 
at  his  first  glance. 

In  the  middle  of  the  room  his  father  stood, 
holding  by  her  arm  the  deaf  and  dumb  child, 
now  shaking  her  violently,  and  now  striking 
her  with  a  large  knotty  stick  which  he  had 
caught  up  from  the  pile  of  wood  by  the  stove. 
Lotty,  the  child,  writhed  and  shrieked  between 
each  blow,  and  the  blood  began  to  crimson  her 
neck  and  hands  as  Willie  entered.  His  mother 
was  hurrying  with  the  baby  and  his  two  years 
old  brother  out  of  the  side  door,  to  summon 
that  assistance  which  she  knew  full  well  she 
was  unable  to  give.  A  broken  jug  with  its 
spilled  contents  told  the  whole  story.  Lotty 


WILLIE'S  HOME.  23 

had  unfortunately  broken  the  article ;  her 
father  had  already  taken  too  much  of  its  con- 
tents, and  now  was  following  the  penalty. 

"  Let  her  alone,  father ! "  said  Willie,  at- 
tempting to  step  between  them. 

The  child  recognized  him  with  a  cry  of  joy, 
and  held  out  her  little  bleeding  hands  towards 
him.  "  Let  Lotty  alone,  father  1  "  repeated 
Willie,  more  boldly,  catching  the  stick  as  it  waa 
falling,  and  endeavoring  to  wrest  it  away. 

"  Out  of  the  way,"  said  his  father,  aiming  at 
him  the  blow  intended  for  Lotty. 

"  Stop,  father !  stop,  or  beat  me,  if  you  must 
any  one." 

"  Beat  you !  that  I  will  till  I  have  pummelled 
you  to  powder."  Still  keeping  tight  hold  of 
Lotty,  the  intoxicated  father  reeled  after  Willie, 
who,  by  a  series  of  dexterous  dodges  not  only 
escaped  the  blows,  but  drew  his  father  nearer 
the  door.  Opening  it,  he  pointed  out  of  it  to 
Lotty,  and  making  a  sudden  and  vigorous  leap 
upon  the  arm  by  which  she  was  held,  he  sue- 


24  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

ceeded  in  loosening  it,  and  the  child  sprang 
away.  Immediately  shutting  the  door  upon 
her,  Willie  stood  alone  with  his  infuriated  father, 
and  for  one  instant  the  thought  of  sudden 
death  flashed  across  him.  "  God  help  me,  and 
keep  me  for  my  mother's  sake,"  prayed  the  boy 
silently  ;  and  as  the  thought  passed  through 
his  mind,  a  heavy  blow  almost  deprived  him 
of  sense.  For  a  moment  he  was  unconscious 
of  what  was  passing  around  him.  When  lie 
recovered,  his  father  was  sitting  down  in  a 
chair,  the  stick  had  dropped  from  his  hand, 
and  he  was  gazing  sullenly  at  him. 

The  force  of  that  last  blow  had  partially 
sobered  him,  or  God  had  spoken  to  him  in 
one  of  those  flashes  of  reason,  which  some- 
times come  athwart  the  bewildered  mind.  He 
saw  blood — he  knew  it  was  from  his  son's  head ; 
and  he  knew  further,  that  in  some  way  he  had 
been  the  cause  of  it.  Poor  man !  he  had  "  put 
an  enemy  into  his  mouth  to  steal  away  his 
Drains  ;"  he  had  no  power  of  knowing  exactly 


WILLIE'S  HOME.  25 

what  had  taken  place  any  more  than  the  stick 
of  wood  which  had  fallen  from  hia  hand  ;  he 
looked  as  vacantly  at  his  own  child,  as  if  he 
had  never  known  him  ;  he  was  not  sufficiently 
conscious  to  be  then  sorry  for  what  he  had  done. 

Willie  moved  softly  to  the  fire  ;  the  blood  was 
trickling  slowly  down  his  face,  but  he  did  not 
feel  it.  There  was  a  ringing  sound  in  his  ears, 
and  the  objects  in  the  room  moved  up  and 
down,  as  if  they  were  all  going  out  of  the  door. 
He  cowered  down  close  to  the  stove  ;  he  was 
cold,  very  cold,  and  yet  great  drops  of  per- 
spiration were  mingling  with  the  blood.  He 
covered  his  face  with  both  his  hands.  How  long 
he  sat  there  he  could  never  tell ;  he  was  first 
aroused  by  a  gentle  hand  lifting  him  up. 

"  Willie,"  his  mother  said,  "  are  you  much 
hurt  ?  speak  to  me,  my  boy." 

"No,  mother,"  said  he,  instantly  rousing 
himself ;  "  I  am  not  hurt  at  all,  only  I  was 
cold  and  tired,  and  sat  down  to  rest." 

With  some  fresh  water  his  mother  washed 
3 


26  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

away  the  dried  blood,  and,  parting  his  fair  hair 
from  off  his  forehead,  kissed  him.  "Poor 
Willie ! "  she  said,  tenderly,  "  mother  is  very 
sorry  for  her  boy." 

"  Where  is  Lotty  ?  "  said  Willie,  starting  up. 

"Softly,"  said  his  mother,  pointing  to  his 
father,  who  with  his  head  upon  the  table  was 
sleeping  soundly — "  I  thought  you  had  hidden 
her  away." 

"  No,  I  put  her  out  of  the  door  ;  where  can 
she  be  ?  I  will  go  and  see  ! " 

As  he  tried  to  stand,  he  reeled — the  blow 
had  been  very  severe ;  he  had  not  quite  recover- 
ed. His  mother  led  him  to  the  door  ;  she  knew 
the  fresh  air  would  restore  him,  and  so  it  did, 
though  it  cut  him  through  and  through  almost 
like  a  knife.  Confused  as  he  was,  he  began  to 
call  "  Lotty ! "  forgetting  that  she  could  not 
hear ;  but,  suddenly  recollecting,  he  looked 
around  for  her  in  every  direction.  There  was 
no  object  near,  by  which  she  could  conceal 
herself.  Up  and  dc  wn,  as  far  as  he  could  see, 


WILLIE'S  HOME.  27 

lay  tiie  cold  snow,  with  hardly  a  tree  or  shrub  to 
break  its  glittering  surface.  "  Lotty !  Lotty ! ;' 
he  called  again,  alarmed  at  the  stillness  which 
seeuied  to  have  fallen  over  every  thing,  and 
ansrious  to  break  it,  if  it  was  so  uselessly. 
"  Lotty  !  where  are  you  ?  Come  home  ;  there 
is  no  danger  now." 

Not  a  sound  in  reply.  Hesitating  for  an 
instant  which  way  to  turn,  he  decided  at  last 
that  Lotty  was  accustomed  to  go  to  the  village, 
when  allowed  to  go  out  at  all,  and  thither  he 
turned  to  follow  her.  As  he  went  on,  he  re- 
membered how  wholly  unprotected  she  was — 
not  the  slightest  covering,  and  the  blood  on 
her  neck  and  hands. 

"  She  will  die — she  will  die,"  he  screamed, 
as  he  rapidly  repeated  all  these  circumstances 
to  himself ;  and,  as  if  new  life  was  given  to 
him  by  the  thought,  he  almost  flew  along  the 
road  to  the  nearest  house.  As  he  approached 
It,  a  new  terror  seized  the  boy. 

So  far,  during  his  father's  downward  course, 


28  WIN   AND    WEAR. 

with  the  self-respect  inherent  to  delicate  minds, 
his  mother  and  himself  had  taken  every  pains 
to  conceal  both  his  conduct  and  their  own  suf- 
ferings from  their  neighbors.  Never  before 
had  he  so  far  forgotten  himself  as  to  inflict 
personal  violence  upon  them  ;  and  now,  by  to- 
day's outrage,  the  whole  secret  must  be  reveal- 
ed. Years  of  patient  endurance  were  all  in 
vain  ;  and  this  confession,  forced  out  by  his  own 
and  Lotty's  looks,  oh!  the  proud,  sensitive 
child  felt  that  he  would  rather  die  than  make. 
He  could  have  borne  any  trial  save  this  ;  but 
poor,  helpless  Lotty !  he  could  not  let  her  suffer. 
No  one  can  ever  know  the  amount  of  courage 
which  it  required  for  Willie  to  knock  at  this 
neighbor's  door.  A  schoolmate  opened  it ;  he 
noticed  nothing  unusual  in  Willie's  looks — so 
the  boy  was  almost  relieved  to  hear  him  say 
that  Lotty  had  not  been  there,  or  passed  by 
that  way,  for  he  had  been  out  on  the  street 
until  that  very  minute,  having  come  in  to 
warm  himself. 


WILLIE'S  HOME.  29 

Willie  retraced  his  steps  ;  he  must  consult 
with  his  mother.  Every  part  of  his  progress 
home  was  marked  with  such  thoughts  and  res- 
olutions as  had  never  been  his  before.  He 
had  not  a  vestige  of  the  ambition  which  so 
few  hours  before  had  made  him  liken  himself  to 
the  curling  smoke.  He  felt  many  years  older, 
as  if  upon  him,  a  boy  of  ten,  had  suddenly  de- 
volved the  care  of  his  mother,  his  deaf  and 
dumb  sister,  his  baby  sister,  and  even  Warren, 
though  he  was  the  sturdiest  of  them  all.  "  I 
will  consult  with  mother."  These  few  words 
told  of  the  commencement  of  a  new  epoch  in 
the  child's  life.  They  seemed  to  put  childhood 
behind  him,  and  to  make  him  at  once,  however 
prematurely,  a  man, — so  Willie  thought ;  and 
reverently,  as  if  starting  back  from  this  shadow 
of  coming  manhood,  he  closed  his  eyes,  and 
repeated  again  that  short  prayer,  so  familiar 
to  the  troubled  heart — "  God  help  me." 

Mrs.  Sumner  was  more  alarmed  than  Willie, 
«rhen  she  saw  him  returning  without  Lotty. 
3* 


30  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

From  her  birth  the  child  had  been  to  her  such 
a  constant  source  of  care  and  anxiety,  that  the 
dread  of  an  accident  had  become  almost  in- 
stinctive, and  the  absence  of  Lotty,  even  for  a 
few  moments  from  her  sight,  was  always  ac- 
companied by  sad  forebodings.  When  she  left 
the  house  to  secure  the  safety  of  her  other 
children,  she  had  trusted  to  the  gentleness 
which,  after  the  first  burst  of  passion,  had  never 
failed  to  come  to  the  father  for  this  stricken 
one,  to  secure  Lotty  from  any  real  injury  ;  and 
this  she  knew,  in  his  infuriated  state,  she  could 
not  rely  upon  for  her  other  children,  should 
any  thing  occur  to  divert  his  attention  from 
her  to  them.  The  child  had  never  been  far 
from  home,  and  a  constitutional  timidity  aided 
her  mother  in  keeping  her,  even  in  the  most 
tempting  summer-time,  within  sight  of  the 
house ;  therefore  Mrs.  Sumner  felt  sure  her 
ignorance  of  the  roads  would  prevent  her  going 
to  any  distance,  and,  putting  her  baby  into  bed, 
with  a  trembling  dread  as  to  what  might  hap- 


WILLIE'S  HOME.  31 

pen  to  the  other  children  during  her  absence, 
she  prepared  hastily  to  go  with  Willie.  They 
looked  behind  every  object  that  rose  above 
the  surface  of  the  ground ;  even  a  little  bank 
of  snow,' which  could  scarcely  have  concealed 
the  child,  was  carefully  searched.  And  as  the 
distance  from  home  increased,  and  all  was 
silent  and  desolate,  Willie  drew  nearer  to  his 
mother,  and  his  courage  died  away  with  every 
fresh  failure.  They  had  both  hoped  that  Lotty 
had  secreted  herself  in  the  pine  woods  which  was 
a  mile  before  them,  on  the  same  road.  How 
much  she  must  have  suffered  from  the  cold,  in 
order  to  reach  this  place,  they  dared  not  think. 
On,  on  they  went, — Lotty's  mother,  with  the 
image  of  a  perishing  child  beckoning  her  for- 
ward, and  the  two  little  ones,  left  to  the  mercy 
of  an  intoxicated  father,  calling  her  back. 

That  was  a  weary  mile  to  the  woods.  Again 
and  again  they  searched,  in  the  half-beaten  snow 
road,  for  the  print  of  the  child's  foot ;  but  the 
hard  surface  retained  no  mark,  and  if  they 


32  WIN    AND    WEAR. 

were  wrong  in  the  direction  they  had  taken, 
they  had  not  at  least  the  misery  of  continually 
knowing  it.  How  drearily  those  old  pines 
groaned  and  shivered  as  they  approached 
them !  It  seemed  to  the  mother  like  a*  wail  for 
her  lost  child  ;  and,  as  they  left  the  path,  and, 
taking  opposite  directions,  began  to  look  be- 
hind every  tree  and  shrub,  the  cracking  of 
the  stiffened  limbs  and  the  fall  of  a  dried  cone 
heavily  upon  the  snow  made  them  often  stop, 
and  call  to  each  other  with  a  thrill  of  joy, 
sure  that  the  lost  was  found!  A  short  cir- 
cuit brought  them  out  about  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  deeper  into  the  woods  together  ;  and,  with 
a  calmness  which  Willie  never  forgot,  his 
mother  told  him  she  "  could  not  any  longer  re- 
main away  from  home,  and  that  he  had  better 
go  to  the  village  for  help." 

"  Then  I  must  tell  them  of  father,"  said  Wil- 
lie, dropping  his  head ;  "  every  one  will  ask 
how  Lotty  came  away  from  home." 

"  Do  your  duty,  my  boy,"  said  bis  mother, 


WILLIE'S  HOME.  35j 

gently,  "and  trust  God  with  the  rest.  Tell 
the  truth,  if  you  are  asked  ;  it  is  no  longer  in 
our  power  to  shield  your  father*" 

Quickly  retracing  her  steps,  Mrs,  Sumner 
almost  feared  to  enter  the  house.  It  was  still 
as  death  as  she  opened  the  door,  but  one  look 
reassured  her.  Still  leaning  on  his  arms  at 
the  table,  her  husband  slept  soundly,  and  the 
children  had  also  both  fallen  asleep.  God 
had  heard  her  prayer,  and  had  watched  over 
the  helpless, 

Willie,  left  alone,  became  almost  frantic,— 
he  felt  so  sure  that  Lo.tty  would  die  before  he 
could  go  to  the  village  and  return*  And  then, 
to  whom  should  he  go  ?  His  mother  had  not 
said :  he. must  decide  for  himself.  It  is  no  won' 
der  that  the  first  person  he  thought  of  was 
James  Ash  ton  ; — but  James  was -only  a  boy  j 
what  could  he  do?  He  would  help  him  m 
some  way,  he  felt  sure ;  so,  without  any  fur- 
ther hesitation,  he  started  on  a  run  for  Mr. 
Ashton's. 


34  WIN    AND   WEAR. 

Before  he  reached  the  village  he  came  in 
sight  of  a  boy  dragging  his  sled.  "Willie's  first 
impulse  was  to  turn  away  to  avoid  the  meet- 
ing, but  that  he  could  not  do  without  losing 
time.  No  one  \vho  has  not  been  similarly  tried 
can  tell  what  an  effort  of  moral  courage  it  re- 
quired tc  make  this  first  confession,  for  he  had 
no  idea  that  his  bruised  face  and  stained  coat 
would  escape  the  notice  of  the  boy.  One  mo- 
ment he  wavered,  and  his  troubled  heart  sent 
forth  a  cry  of  agony,  which  God  was  listening 
to  hear.  "  Honor  thy  father."  Long  ago  God 
had  commanded  it,  and  now  He  saw,  and  knew, 
that  this  struggle  in  the  child  was  because  he 
could  not "  honor"  his  father  as  he  wished.  It 
is  difficult  for  us  to  realize  how  constantly  God 
is  with  us  ;  how,  looking  beyond  what  we  say, 
or  what  perhaps  our  lips  refuse  to  utter,  He 
reads  deep  in  our  hearts  all  those  thoughts 
and  feelings  which  no  human  eye  has  ever  dis- 
cerned. Willie  hardly  thought  of  God  at 
this  moment ; — he  thought  of  his  father,  as  he 


WILLIE'S  HOME.  35 

was  years  ago  ;  he  had  an  indescribable  longing 
to  keep  from  the  knowledge  of  every  one  how 
he  erred,  how  cruel  and  wicked  he  had  be- 
come ;  but  he  walked  steadily  on,  and,  as  he 
came  nearer  the  boy,  he  heard  his  own  name 
shouted  loudly.  "Willie!  Willie  Sumner! 
Come  here,  quick.  You  don't  know  what  I 
have  found ! " 

He  recognized  the  voice  as  James's,  and  fol- 
lowing at  once  came  another  sound  :  never  had 
there  been  so  much  music  in  it  before  ;  it  was 
Lotty's  shrill  voice,  uttering,  in  her  own  unin- 
telligible language,  her  glad  welcome. 

Seated  upon  James's  sled,  that  same  Snow- 
bird, sat  Lotty,  so  nicely  and  warmly  wrapped 
up  in  some  of  Lina's  clothes,  that,  notwithstand- 
ing the  voice,  Willie  had  to  peep  several 
times  under  the  hood  to  be  sure  the  bright, 
happy  face  was  indeed  that  of  his  deaf  and 
dumb  sister. 

A  pair  of  warm  red  mittens  covered  her 
hands.  She  held  up  one  for  Willie  to  admire 


36  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

its  bright  color  ;  and  then  the  other  liaLd,  with 
a  look  of  infinite  childish  delight,  to  show  a 
large  slice  of  cake  with  which  Mrs.  Ashton 
had  provided  her.  The  sight  of  the  food  re- 
minded Willie  that  he  had  eaten  nothing  since 
morning.  He  involuntarily  made  a  movement 
to  break  a  piece  from  off  it,  for  his  long,  cold 
walk  had  given  him  a  keen  appetite,  although 
he  had  not  had  time  to  think  of  it  before.  Lotty 
saw  it,  and  eagerly  held  it  out  to  him  ;  but 
Willie,  remembering  himself,  kissed  his  hand 
to  her, — his  usual  way  of  thanking  her, — and 
resolutely  turned  from  the  tempting  morsel. 

Probably  more  of  Mr.  Sumner's  real  situa- 
tion was  known  to  the  villagers  than  his  own 
family  were  aware, — for,  to  Willie's  inexpressi- 
ble relief,  James  made  no  inquiries ;  he  only 
said, "  that  his  father  had  met  Lotty  on  the  road 
to  Chelten,  and  had  taken  her  into  his  sleigh 
and  brought  her  to  his  mother.  His  mother, 
knowing  that  Mrs.  Sumner  would  be  anxious 
about  her,  had  only  kept  her  long  enough  to 


MILLIE'S  HOME.  37 

warm  1  er  and  put  some  of  Liua's  clothes  on 
her ;  that  Lotty  had  been  a  very  good  child, 
had  not  cried  at  all  when  his  mother  washed 
her,  though — though,"  James  was  going  to  say, 
"  though  the  blood  had  been  very  stiffly  con- 
gealed by  the  long  exposure  to  the  cold  ; "  but 
his  quick  feelings  told  him  that  it  was  better 
not  to  mention  the  injury,  so  he  finished  his  sen- 
tence with,  "  though  she  was  very  cold  indeed." 

Lotty's  eye  watched  the  expression  of  the 
boy's  face  very  intently,  as  they  stood  talking 
together.  She  seemed  hardly  to  know  wheu'r 
she  had  done  right  or  wrong,  for  God  had 
given  to  this  afflicted  child  a  keen  sensibility 
to  the  moral  value  of  an  act,  which,  after  all, 
was  destined  to  be  a  surer  guide  to  her  than 
the  light  of  revelation,  and  the  constant  line 
upon  line  and  precept  upon  precept,  are  to  many 
who  can  both  hear  and  speak. 

She  watched  the  shade  steal  off  from  Willie's 
face  ;  she  saw  a  real  smile  light  it  up  ;  and  then 
once  more  she  uttered  that  strange,  wild  snout 
4 


38  WIN    AND    WEAR. 

of  joy,  and,  jumping  off  from  the  sled,  insisted 
upon  putting  all  her  slice  of  cake  into  the 
hands  of  the  hungry  boy. 

"  Lotty  brought  that  for  you,"  said  James, 
the  tears  actually  coming  into  his  eyes  as  he 
saw  Willie  striving  to  keep  back  the  hunger 
which  the  food  again  made  almost  uncontrolla- 
ble. "  Mother  gave  her  a  nice  lunch  ;  she  ate 
all  she  could — then  mother  sent  this  to  you." 

"Thank  you,"  said  Willie,  breaking  off  a 
little  piece,  and  carrying  it  to  his  mouth  as 
iLiiidently  as  if  he  were  suddenly  placed  at  a 
table  with  a  princess  ;  "  the  truth  is,  I  am  very 
.hungry,  for  I  have  not  eaten  a  mouthful  since 
long  before  daylight  this  morning,  and  I  could 
eat  a  nail." 

"  Try  an  apple  first,  then,"  said  James,  tak- 
ing a  large,  rosy-cheeked  one  from  his  pocket. 
"  Here  is  a  pair  of  them  for  you.  I  put  in  this 
very  one,  thinking  you  might  like  to  have  it 
at  recess  ;  it's  more  juicy  than  a  nail,  at  least." 

When  Lotty  saw  the  apples,  and  Willie 


WILLIE'S  HOME.  39 

really  eating,  first  a  mouthful  of  one,  and  then 
a  mouthful  of  the  cake,  she  uttered  a  series  of 
those  joyful  sounds,  and  ended  by  clapping 
her  hands. 

"  That's  her  way,"  said  Willie,  "  when  she  is 
too  happy  to  laugh.  What  a  darling  she  is. 
Do  you  know,  James  ?  I  think  I  love  her  a  hun- 
dred times  better  than  I  should  if  she  could 
talk.  She  says  so  much  without  ever  speaking 
a  word." 

James  looked  at  her  animated  face  with  al- 
most as  much  pleasure  as  Willie.  He  had 
never  seen  so  much  of  her  before.  Children 
generally  have  a  species  of  awe  for  one  upon 
whom  God  has  lain  His  hand,  which  keeps  them 
from  a  very  intimate  approach  ;  and  this  deaf 
and  dumb  child,  with  her  eager,  piercing  look, 
seemed  almost  to  him  like  an  angel  whom  God 
had  sent  to  watch,  and  report  to  Him  how  other 
children  behaved.  She  had  never  appeared  so 
much  like  a  human  child  to  him  as  she  did  now, 
and  he  did  not  wonder  that  Willie  loved  her. 


iO  WIN    AND    WEAR. 

It  must  not  "be  supposed  that  the  boys  stood 
still  while  Willie  ate  his  opportune  luncheon  ; 
they  drew  the  sled,  upon  which  Lotty  had  seated 
herself  again,  as  fast  as  they  could  walk,  to- 
ward? her  home.  And  some  time  before  they 
reached  it,  Mrs.  Sumner,  to  her  inexpressible 
relief,  saw  them,  and  divined  the  whole. 

James  did  not  quite  like  to  approach  very 
near  the  house,  so,  as  they  came  to  a  turn  in  the 
road,  he  said,  "  Now,  Willie,  if  you  will  lead 
Lotty  home,  I  will  run  to-  school.  I  shall  just 
have  time,,  if  I  am  quick." 

How  thoughtful  James  was !;  Willie  did 
not  say  so  ;  but  this  gentle  kindness  of  the  rich 
boy  was  one  of  the  beautiful  gifts  of  God, 
which  He  sent  to  compensate  the  child  for  the 
sufferings  which  must  attend  his  lot.  Willie 
did  not  think  of  all  this  ;  James  did  not  even 
know  it.  But  when  the  boys  parted,  James 
carried  with  him  the  buoyant,  happy  feelings 
which  always  remain  after  having  done  a  kind 
thing  kindly  j  and  Willie  went  back  to  his 


WILLIE'S  HOME.  41 

desolate  home  with  more  courage,  and  more 
strength  to  endure. 

He  could  not  go  to  school  that  afternoon. 
He  felt  tired,  and  almost  sick  ;  and  besides,  he 
began  to  find — little  frail  child  that  he  was ! — 
that  his  presence  was  a  protection  to  his  moth- 
er. He  hardly  remembered  the  examination, 
and  the  long  review  lesson  in  spelling  and 
arithmetic,  which  was  to  come  off  this  after- 
noon. He  had  much  to  do  at  home :  and,  after 
all,  it  is  the  performance  of  a  duty,  well,  cheer- 
fully, thoroughly,  even  if  this  duty  is  not  the 
most  desirable — or  if,  by  many  plausible  ex- 
cuses, another  could  be  made  to  take  its  place  ; — 
still,  as  there  can  be  but  one  right  thing  re- 
quired of  us  at  a  time,  it  is  attention  to  this 
which  never  fails  to  bring  its  reward.  This  is 
the  way,  and  the  only  way,  to  win  the  laurel ; 
and  this,  too,  is  the  only  course  by  which  we 
can  fit  ourselves  so  to  wear  it,  that  we  can 
feel  sure  it  is  ours,  and  be  secure  from  the 
envy  or  ill  will  which  is  so  often  the  acconv 
4* 


12  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

paniment  of  success,  because  others  dispute  our 
claim  as  founded  not  in  right,  but  originating 
for  the  most  part  in  some  species  of  fraud  or 
deception.  Willie  was,  at  present,  in  no  dan 
ger  of  this. 


m. 


fPHE  school  in  Belden's  Falls  occupied  a  posi- 
-*-  tion  midway  between  a  district,  and  a  high 
school.  That  is,  much  pain-s  was  taken  to  secure 
competent  teachers,  and  some  boys  had  gone 
from  there  directly  to  college. 

This  advance  beyond  common  schools  was 
owing  mainly  to  the  exertions  of  Mr.  Ashton, 
who,  not  being  able  to  support  a  teacher  exclu- 
sively for  his  own  children,  and  yet  unwilling 
to  send  them,  young  as  they  were,  away  from 
home,  did  the  best  thing  he  could  —  paid  a 
larger  sum  than  any  one  else  toward  the  sup- 
port of  the  school  —  and  secured  a  teacher 
entirely  competent.  Squire  Ashton,  as  the 
villagers  called  him,  was  the  great  man  of  the 
place.  He  was  not  a  lawyer,  as  his  title  would 
imply,  but  was  engaged  ii  extensive  manufac- 


44  tfIN   AND   WEAK. 

hiring  interests ;  and  had  come  to  Belden's 
Falls  to  take  advantage  of  a  fine  water-power, 
which  accidentally  came  to.  his  knowledge.  It 
was  all  an  experiment ;  but  as  he  was  one  of 
those  men  who  unite  goodness  and  integrity 
with  activity  and  sound  business  capacity,  his 
residence  among  them  began  soon  to  show  it- 
self in  the  thrift  and  increasing  intelligence 
of  the  towns-people.  They  had  formerly 
preaching  only  occasionally  in  their  school- 
house.  One  of  the  first  things  Mr.  Ashton 
did,  after  selecting  the  site  for  his  mill,  was  to 
choose  one  for  a  church,  and  the  two  buildings 
went  up  almost  stone  by  stone. 

"  God  would,  for  sartin,  bless  that  ere  man," 
old  Mrs.  Thomson  said,  "  for  he  sarved  Him> 
as  well  as  mammon  ;  and  this  ere  mill  would 
stand  and  prosper  as  long  as  the  airth  lasted, 
for  it  had  the  blessing." 

It  seemed  as  if  the  good  lady's  prediction 
was  literally  fulfilled  ;  for  everything  Mr. 
Ashton  touched,  prospered.  He  found  the 


THE  EXAMINATION.  46 

heart  of  the  people,  and  they  served  him  faith- 
fully. At  the  date  of  our  story  there  were 
two  large  mills  in  successful  operation.  Small, 
neat  houses  had  been  built,  until  the  population 
had  doubled  to  fill  them.  Nice  new  stores 
carried  on  quite  an  enterprising  competition. 
The  minister — "  the  best  man  the  world  ever 
saw,"  his  people  said — had  a  pretty  little  par- 
sonage, a  competent  support,  and  a  loving  and 
attentive  people.  The  old  school-house  had 
long  since  been  moved  away,  and  a  neat  new 
building  was  always  crowded  with  its  young 
occupants.  So  much  interest  was  felt  in  it,  that 
the  "Examination"  was  considered  the  event 
of  the  year,  and  the  preparation  for  it  a  matter 
of  the  greatest  importance.  It  very  soon  be- 
came rumored  about  that  Willie  Sumner  was 
likely  to  prove  the  best  scholar  for  this  year  ; 
and  the  intelligence  was  received  with  much 
pleasure,  for  the  whole  tone  of  thought  and 
feeling  in  the  town  had  become  elevated  in 
proportion  as  it  came  under  the  immediate 


46  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

influence  of  Mr.  Ashtcu.  And  people,  who 
had  known  Willie's  parents  in  the  days  of 
their  prosperity,  were  glad  of  anything  which 
could  tend  to  alleviate  their  situation  now. 

Mr.  Sumner  had  come  to  settle  in  Belden'a 
Falls  fifteen  years  ago  ;  he  had  married  the 
youngest  child  of  their  old  minister.  She  had 
been  an.  only  and  a  very  darling  child,  and 
seemed,  in  her  gentle  loveliness,  to  belong  to 
the  whole  town.  Mr.  Sumner  was  fine-looking, 
gentlemanly,  and  talented.  Every  one  thought 
it  a  good  match — no  wonder  the  young  lady 
did  herself,  for  surely,  never  was  promise 
given  of  greater  happiness.  But  Mr.  Sumner 
was  active,  and  the  people  in  Belden's  Falls 
were  not  quarrelsome ;  there  was  very  little 
for  him  to  do  there.  He  gradually  became 
idle, — and  idleness,  in  man  or  boy,  is  the  root 
of  all  evil.  Bad  habits  followed  naturally,  and, 
going  from  bad  to  worse,  business,  what  little 
he  had,  failed.  Then  came  straitened  circum- 
stances, poverty,  and  at  last  absolute  want. 


THE  EXAMINATION.  47 

Mr.  Ashton  extended  his  helping  hand  to 
him,  and  tried  to  save  him  ;  but  what,  beside 
the  grace  of  God,  can  arrest  a  person  who 
has  not  the  strength  to  save  himself? 

Mr.  Simmer  moved  out  from  the  village.  He 
rapidly  lost  his  self-respect,  and  now  did  noth- 
ing but  an  occasional  piece  of  law  business, 
which  Mr.  Ashton  pressed  upon  him  in  order 
that  his  family  might  not  perish,  or  come  upon 
the  town.  "Ah !  God's  hand  is  upon  them," 
the  good  villagers  said.  "We  are  glad  our 
worthy  old  minister  has  gone  to  his  rest ;  it 
would  well-nigh  have  broken  his  heart  to  see 
this  lamb  of  his  flock  suffering  so,  and  that 
deaf  and  dumb  child  too.  It  never  rains  but 
it  pours,  and  the  mother  was  a  good  little 
thing  ;  we  all  remember  her  when  she  was  as 
sweet  as  a  rose." 

It  was  therefore  now  a  species  of  compensa- 
tion, over  which  every  one  rejoiced,  to  have 
Willie  doing  so  well  ;  and  many  a  mother  felt 
that  she  could  give  up  that  first  place  for  her 


48  WIN  AND  WEAK. 

own  boy  with  real  pleasure,  if  it  only  might 
come  to  Willie  Sumner. 

Willie  had  no  thoughts  of  the  victory.  He 
had  studied  well,  because  his  mother  had  al- 
ways taught  him  to  do  what  he  did  with  his 
whole  Lrjart ;  and  then,  his  heart  was  in  his 
books,  for  he  often  felt  sure  that  he  had  rather 
read,  and  get  a  good  hard  lesson,  than  do 
any  thing  else  in  the  world.  Perhaps  he 
might  have  been  more  playful  if  he  had  had  a 
happier  life ;  but  now,  care  and  sorrow  had 
been  his  companions  from  his  cradle,  and  it 
is  hard  for  even  a  child  to  sport  with  such 
playfellows. 

He  was  a  quiet,  gentle,  sad  little  boy,  but 
all  his  schoolfellows  loved  him.  He  was  mod- 
est and  retiring ;  and,  if  he  were  at  the  head 
of  his  class,  put  on  no  airs  of  superiority  or 
self-importance.  There  was  another  reason 
why  Willie  was  generally  beloved  :  his  mates 
did  not  know  it ;  and  they  would,  many  of  them, 
scarcely  have  comprehended  it  if  they  had. 


THE   EXAMINATION.  49 

His  mother  had  always  said  to  him,  since  his 
earliest  remembrance,  "My  son,  God  is  not 
going  to  give  you  many  good  things  in  this 
life  ;  you  must  begin  early  to  lay  up  for  your- 
self treasures  in  another,  and  then  it  will  be 
of  very  little  importance  what  happens  to  you 
here."  She  not  only  gave  Willie  this  gen- 
eral direction,  but  she  strove  to  put  it  for  him 
into  practical,  every-day  use.  In  what  man- 
ner she  did  this  the  progress  of  our  story  will 
show.  She  had  brought  away  from  her  Chris- 
tian home  a  Christian  heart ;  if  it  had  not 
been  for  this,  it  seemed  to  her  that  she  should 
have  prayed  to  lay  down  her  burdens  long  ago. 
Perhaps  there  was  not  in  Belden's  Falls  a 
parent  who  felt  less  solicitude  for  Willie's  suc- 
cess at  the  coming  examination  than  she  did 
herself.  So  often  the  praise  which  is  so  lav- 
ishly bestowed  at  such  a  time  is  apt  to  result 
in  injury  to  the  child,  that  she  dreaded  more 
than  she  coveted  it  "  Keep  my  precious  boy 
from  temptation,"  was  her  daily  prayer. 
5 


50  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

It  was  a  bright  sparkling  day  when  the  bell 
from  the  meeting-house  announced  to  the  people 
that  the  examination  was  to  take  place.  There 
was  no  room  for  it  in  the  school-house — every 
seat  was  occupied  by  scholars.  Even  the  church 
was  crowded ;  and  many  a  little  heart  beat 
fast,  as,  dressed  in  holiday  attire,  the  solem- 
nity and  awe  belonging  to  the  church  were 
added  to  the  dread  of  speaking  where  there  were 
so  many  to  hear,  and  the  minister  and  Mr. 
Ashton,  too  ! 

Many  small  feet  made  divers  paths  out  of 
the  beaten  road  as  they  flew  along,  to  see  "  how 
it  would  seem  "  in  that  big  church  ;  and  little 
red  fingers,  that  had  never  approached  the  con- 
secrated stove,  held  themselves  close  up  to  it 
now,  with  a  kind  of  wonder  at  finding  it  emit- 
ted precisely  the  same  kind  of  heat  which 
theirs  did  at  home,  and  in  due  time  actually 
restored  warmth  and  circulation. 

Willie's  mother  had,  with  much  care  and 
labor,  prepared  him  a  new  suit,  or  rather  an 


THE   EXAMINATION.  51 

old  suit  turned,  and  made  "  as  good  as  new." 
Willie  surveyed  it  with  great  sa.isfaction. 
He,  boy  as  he  was,  had  cast  many  an  anxious 
thought  to  the  patches  on  his  clothes  :  he  loved 
dearly  to  be  neat  and  clean  ;  he  sometimes 
thought  he  loved  James  Ashton  better  for  his 
trim,  stylish  clothes.  He  was  perfectly  famil- 
iar with  every  style  of  button  that  adorned 
them.  There  was  a  propriety  and  elegance 
in  good  clothes,  which  suited  the  delicacy  and 
refinement  of  the  boy's  natural  taste.  He 
could  not  be  said  positively  to  suffer  from  his 
own  shabby  condition,  but  he  regarded  it  as  a 
form  of  trial,  and  used  often,  in  his  simple 
boy-prayers,  to  ask  God  to  take  away  his 
proud  heart,  and  make  him  willing  to  bear 
cheerfully  precisely  the  lot  which  He  had  seen 
best  to  appoint  him.  This  new  suit  of  clothes, 
coming  so  unexpectedly — how  gratefully  it  made 
his  heart  beat !  Not  a  child  among  all  those 
neatly-dressed  children,  to  whom  their  new 
clothes  gave  one  half  the  real  pleasure !  Per 


52  WIN  AND   WEAR. 

haps  there  was  not  another  who,  after  being 
all  ready  to  go,  stole  softly  to  his  chamber, 
and,  kneeling  down  by  the  side  of  his  bed,  with 
tears  starting  from  his- eyes,  thanked  God  for 
being  so  very  kind  to  him,  and  asked  for  abil- 
ity to  do  well  at  school,  and  help  to  make,  by 
and  by,  a  good,  useful  man. 

Mrs.  Sumiier  stood  at  the  door,  and  watched 
her  boy  until  he  was  lost  to  her  sight ;  then, 
commending  him  to  God,  she  felt  willing  to 
leave  him  there.  Willie  was  the  only  child 
whose  parents  were  not  present ;  it  may  be,  the 
only  one  who  went  thither  followed  by  his 
mother's  prayer.  What  an  unusual  sound  that 
hum  of  children's  voices  was,  as  he  opened  the 
large  outer-door  !  and  how  eagerly  they  wel- 
comed him! — any  one  might  have  seen  that 
Willie  was  a  favorite.  They  immediately 
made  a  place  for  him  on  the  bench  nearest  the 
stove.  It  was  by  Lina  ;  and  as  Willie  took  it, 
Lina  whispered  to  him — "  What  a  pretty  new 
coat  that  is,Willie ;  you  look  as  neat  as  a  pin." 


THE   EXAMINATION.  53 

Mr.  Lane  soon  called  the  children  to  order  r 


their  several  seats  were  given  them,  and  every 
pains  was  taken,  in  the  arrangement,  to  make 
the  examination  as  impartial  as  possible. 

At  the  appointed  hour  the  friends  began  to 
arrive.  James  Ashton  and  Benjamin  True 
acted  as  ushers.  Every  thing  was  quiet  and 
orderly ;  for  all  had  been  arranged  before- 
hand, and  this  saves  confusion  at  any  time. 
"  Singing,  by  the  choir  !  "  and  sweet  singing  it 
was,  for  who  ever  heard  an  unmusical  child's 
voice,  unless  it  was  when  the  voice  was  raised 
in  anger  ?  Then  the  clergyman  offered  a 
prayer  ;  and  then  the  trembling  little  scholars 
were  called  upon  to  make  their  first  essay. 
This  was  not  one  of  Willie's  classes.  He  was 
glad,  for  he  was  more  timid  than  most  children, 
and  felt  a  shy  desire  to  become  familiar  with 
the  looks  of  the  audience  before  he  spoke.  All 
the  faces  appeared  kind,  happy,  and  pleased  ; 
he  gradually  began  to  lose  his  dread  of  them, 
and  when  his  turn  came,  was  in  perfect  read- 
5* 


54  WIN    AND    WEAK. 

mess.  There  was  a  slight  movement  among 
the  spectators  as  he  took  his  place  upon  the 
stage.  He  was  now  only  to  take  part  in  a 
dialogue ;  and  as  it  was  in  itself  a  sprightly 
thing,  the  boys  entered  fully  into  the  spirit  of 
it,  and  did  admirably  by  forgetting  that  it  was 
not  a  reality.  After  this  came  the  examination 
in  arithmetic.  Willie  knew  that  he  understood 
it  thoroughly,  as  far  as  he  had  gone,  therefore 
performed  his  part  perfectly ;  so  did  James 
Ashton,  and  two  others :  the  only  difference 
was,  that  Willie  was  so  small  and  delicate,  the 
listeners  would  not  make  up  their  minds  to 
expect  as  much  from  him. 

"  I  never  heard  a  better  recitation,"  said  Mr. 
Ashton,  as  the  class  took  their  seats.  "  Mr. 
Lane,  your  scholars  do  you  much  credit." 

Other  classes  were  equally  satisfactory.  It 
was  now  to  that  spelling-match  to  which  all 
looked  forward  with  such  interest;  that, 
alone,  must  decide  the  fate  of  the  day. 

The  school  was  equally  divided  into  two 


THE   EXAMINATION.  55 

parts,  both  for  number  and  scholarship.  They 
were  arranged,  at  first,  according  to  ages,  but 
were  to  go  up,  or  down,  as  they  should  fail  or 
succeed.  The  words  were  given  by  each  child 
to  his  opposite  in  the  other  class,  and  no  one 
had  interfered  in  the  selection  of  the  words  ; 
indeed,  Mr.  Lane  did  not  know  what  they 
were. 

In  this  arrangement  James  Ashton  came 
very  near  the  head,  and  Willie  very  near  the 
foot  of  the  contending  parties.  Willie's  class 
felt  troubled,  and  many  sly  whispers  expressed 
the  wish  that  he  would  go  up. 

"  He  will  get  there  fast  enough,"  said  one  of 
the  boys  ;  "  let  him  alone !  " 

It  was  an  equal  division,  and  the  words  flew 
from  side  to  side  like  balls  of  fire,  carrying 
with  them  smiles  and  nods,  and  half-moving 
lips  longing  to  tell,  for  fear  the  speller  should 
make  a  mistake.  But  after  a  few  minutes  the 
mistakes  began  to  come,  and  Willie  made  a 
few  moves  towards  the  head  ;  so  did  James. 


56  WIN   AND    WEAK. 

But  that  long  row  above  Willie  ! — why,  as  he 
tried  to  look  up,  it  almost  seemed  to  him  as  if 
he  could  hardly  number  the  little  feet  that 
stood  so  stoutly  ranged  above  him.  The  more 
difficult  the  words,  the  better  the  children  spell- 
ed them :  the  truth  was,  they  had  fully  pre- 
pared themselves  on  such  words  as  "  Nebuchad- 
nezzar," and  "  phthisic,"  and  were  not  to  be 
caught.  At  length,  a  boy  on  James's  side 
gave  out  the  word  "  necessary."  The  child  to 
whom  it  was  given,  failed ;  so  did  the  next, 
and  the  next,  until  a  general  panic  seemed 
about  to 'take  place. 

"  Keep  cool,"  said  Mr.  Lane,  pleasantly ; 
"  any  one  of  you  who  have  missed  that  word 
would  be  able,  by  this  time,  I  have  not  a  doubt 
to  spell  it  correctly.  Don't  be  afraid  of  the 
Ss — they  won't  hurt  you  if  you  get  enough  of 
them ! " 

Everybody  laughed  at  the  number  which  the 
next  child  used, — "  nessessary,"  she  said  out, 
very  bravely. 


THE  EXAMINATION.  57 

"Not  quite,  Miss  Emma — you  are  a  little  too 
lavish  ;  be  careful  the  next." 

It  was  in  vain  ;  down,  down  it  went — the 
last  few  above  Willie  hardly  daring  to  make 
the  effort  aloud. 

Now  for  Willie  :  it  would  be  no  wonder  if 
the  boy  had  lost  the  right  way  among  so 
many  wrong  ;  but  no — there  it  is,  spelt  loudly, 
clearly,  and  correctly.  How  the  children  on 
both  sides  clapped ! — even  the  spectators  could 
hardly  restrain  the  same  expression  of  sym- 
pathy. Mr.  Lane  looked  troubled,  and  soon 
all  was  still  again. 

In  the  changes  of  the  class  Lina  was  opposite 
Willie.  She  had  stood  her  ground,  had  never 
missed  :  and  now  it  was  Willie's  turn  to  give 
her  the  word. 

"  Conscience,"  said  Willie,  in  his  confusion, 
i 

hardly  being  aware  to  whom  he  was  giving 
the  word. 

Lina  attempted  it, — but  the  child  was  excited 
with  the  success  of  Willie ;  she  was  thinking 


58  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

much  more  of  him,  than  of  her  word  ;  she 
hesitated,  and  Willie  saw  who  was  his  an- 
tagonist. He  immediately  held  up  his  hand. 

"  Mr.  Lane !  if  you  please,  may  I  give  another 
word  ?  that  is  too  hard  for  such  a  little  girl." 

"  Not  fair — not  fair,"  said  several  voices. 

"  You  hear,  Willie — the  children  decide  for 
me.  They  say  it  would  not  be  fair." 

"  But  she  is  so  young,"  persisted  Willie. 

"  She  has  not  missed  yet,  if  she  is  young," 
said  Mr.  Lane,  encouragingly.  " '  Conscience/ 
Lina — don't  be  frightened ;  show  Willie  you 
are  no  baby." 

But  Lina  had  not  recovered  herself, — indeed 
she  had  had  little  chance,  with  the  attention  of 
the  "whole  school  so  directed  towards  her.  She 
fairly  missed  the  word,  and  lost  her  place. 
But  as  she  went  down,  witli  a  generosity  like 
her  brother's,  she  whispered  to  Willie — "  Never 
mind,  Willie ;  you  did  not  mean  to  make  me 
miss, — you  could  not  help  it — don't  care  about 
it  now." 


THE   EXAMINATION.  59 

But  Willie  did  care.  It  seemed  to  him  that, 
excited  by  his  own  success,  he  had  been  thought- 
less and  careless.  He  would  rather  at  that 
instant  have  put  Lina  back  in  her  place,  then 
gone  to  the  head  of  his  side  himself.  But  he 
saw  there  was  no  help  for  it  now  ;  so  he  tried 
to  forget  it  in  the  excitement  of  the  scene.  All 
the  time,  however,  instead  of  watching  the  pro- 
gress of  the  words,  he  was  watching  Lina, — 
longing  to  say  to  her  how  sorry  he  was,  and 
how  unpleasantly  he  felt.  He  almost  missed 
his  next  word, — really  the  whole  class  gave  him 
up,  when  they  saw  how  he  wavered, — but  he 
recovered  himself;  and  as  Lina  seemed  not 
cast  down  by  her  failure,  his  interest  began  to 
revive  in  the  result. 

James  had  almost  reached  the  head  ;  but 
there  was  a  formidable  array  of  bright  boots 
between  Willie  and  that  goal.  He  did  not 
even  hope  to  reach  it ;  but  he  felt  so  glad  to 
see  James  mounting  so  fast,  that  it  quite 
counterbalanced  his  grief  at  Lina's  failure, 


60  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

particularly  as  lie  saw  how  pleased  she  looked 
at  every  fresh  success  of  his  own. 

The  trial  was  long, — there  were  so  many 
children, — but  at  last  the  younger  grew  tired ; 
and  Mr.  Lane  began  to  dismiss  those  who  had 
missed  three  times,  to  their  seats.  In  this 
way  he  soon  reduced  his  number,  until  only 
four  remained  on  either  side, — James  and 
Willie  among  them.  As  the  number  lessened, 
the  excitement  increased.  One  of  the  four 
missed, — then  another  ;  now  no  one  remained 
but  Willie  and  Jaines.  Who,  as  they  saw  the 
affectionate  looks  which  they  cast  toward  each 
other,  would  have  suspected  that  they  were 
rivals?  Certainly  there  was  no  rivalry  in 
their  hearts ;  and  they  would  probably  have 
given  to  each  other  such  easy  words,  that  the 
children  who  had  taken  their  seats  would 
hardly  have  felt  that  the  game  was  continued 
fairly  :  but  Mr.  Lane  took  the  matter  into  his 
own  hands,  and  himself  gave  out  the  spelling. 
Every  one  thought  it  most  impartially  done  ; 


THE   EXAMINATION.  61 

but  the  clock  struck  twelve,  and  the  regular 
country  people  began  to  look  at  its  hands 
just  as  often  as  at  the  combatants  :  still  neither 
of  them  missed. 

"  You  see,  gentlemen  and  ladies,"  said 
Mr.  Lane,  stopping  soon  after  twelve,  "  the 
game  seems  to  be  a  drawn  one.  I  might  spell 
these  boys  on  until  night  without  their  miss- 
ing, and  they  may  fail  on  the  very  next  trial ; 
I  hardly  know  what  to  do." 

"  Give  them,"  said  Mr.  Ashton,  "  six  more 
words  apiece,  and  then  stop." 

So  it  was.  Six  more  words  were  quickly 
and  correctly  spelt,  and  the  boys  were  dis- 
missed ;  but  before  James  took  his  seat,  he 
held  up  his  hand.  He  evidently  had  something 
he  wished  very  much  to  say.  Mr.  Lane  gave 
him  leave. 

"I  think,  Mr.  Lane,"  he  said,  cheerfully, 
"  there  is  no  doubt  who  has  been  conqueror. 
I  was  more  than  half  way  up,  on  account 
of  my  being  older  than  Willie ;  and  as  he 


62  WIN  AND  WEAR. 

made  his  way  from  the  foot  nearly,  it  is  only 
fair  to  say  that  he  has  done  the  best.  Don't 
you  see,  Mr.  Lane,  how  plain  it  is  ? 

"  There  is  something  in  what  you  say,  most 
certainly,  James,"  said  Mr.  Lane,  his  eye 
sparkling  with  pleasure.  "  You  had  the  ad- 
vantage in  the  start ;  but  if  you  had  been  last, 
you  would  quite  as  likely  have  ended  at  the 
head." 

"  There  would  have  been  a  great  many  more 
chances  for  my  not  being  there,"  continued 
James,  "  and  at  any  rate,  everybody  must  see 
that  it  is  not  quite  fair,  for  Willie  has  in  truth 
done  better  than  I  have." 

"  It  is  difficult,  I  acknowledge,  to  decide," 
said  Mr.  Lane.  "  I  will  therefore  pass  the  de- 
cision of  the  case  from  myself,  to  our  minister 
and  Mr.  Ashton,  who,  although  he  is  your 
own  father,  will,  we  all  feel  sure,  be  as  im- 
partial toward  you,  as  toward  Willie." 

:'  Let  me  speak  first,"  said  Willie,  without 
waiting  for  the  form  of  raising  his  hand.  "  I 


THE   EXAMINATION.  b3 

almost  missed  once.  However  far  down  I  may 
have  been  in  my  class,  this  more  than  makes 
up.  James  never  even  hesitated.  It  seems  to 
me  there  is  no  doubt  who  has  done  best." 

A  murmur  of  pleasure  passed  through  the 
house,  like  a  ray  of  sunshine  ;  and  the  minister 
and  Mr.  Ashton,  with  faces  as  radiant  as  the 
others,  stepped  aside  to  consult  together  a  few 
minutes.  Mr.  Ross,  the  minister,  was  evidently 
congratulating  James's  father  on  the  noble  be- 
havior of  his  son  ;  for  Mr.  Ash  ton's  eyes  sought 
him  out,  and  rested  on  him  for  an  instant  with 
a  peculiar  fondness.  They  however  quickly 
came  to  their  decision.  They  thought  Willie 
right.  His  hesitation  had  counterbalanced 
James's  position.  They  thought  the  boys  equally 
deserving  of  praise.  And  so  they  were  all 
dismissed  and  returned  home,  all  but  the  chil- 
dren who  were  to  stay  at  noon  ;  and  they  soon 
gathered  around  the  stove,  while  they  de 
voured  the  contents  of  their  little  tin-pails, 
eagerly  discussing  the  events  of  the  morning. 


64  WIN    AND    WEAR. 

One  child  peeped  into  Willie's  pail.  "  Why," 
said  she,  pityingly,  "  you  have  only  a  piece  of 
bread,  no  cake,  or  pie,  or  even  apple  ;  here, 
take  half  of  mine ; "  and  then  other  hands 
drew  out  their  choicest  bits,  and  "  Here,  Willie, 
take  mine,  please  do,  mine  is  the  best,"  was 
repeated  by  many  eager  voices.  Willie  refused 
them  all.  He  was  accustomed  to  plain  fare ; 
and,  moreover,  he  felt  tired,  very  tired,  and 
longed  to  hide  away  somewhere  and  go  to 
sleep. 

The  afternoon  exercises  were  very  similar 
to  the  morning,  only  much  shorter  ;  and,  when 
all  was  over,  Mr.  Ashton,  on  behalf  of  the 
school  committee,  made  a  short  address  to  the 
assembly.  He  said  he  had  attended  many  ex- 
aminations, but  never  one  where  everything 
had  proceeded  with  such  perfect,  order  and 
fairness  ;  that  it  was  unrivalled  for  the  prompt- 
ness and  accuracy  of  its  recitations.  It  had 
been,  in  every  respect,  highly  creditable  to  both 
teacher  and  scholar. 


THE  EXAMINATION,  65 

Mr.  Ross  said  he  could  not  forbear  alluding 
to  the  behavior  of  the  two  boys,  James  Ashton 
and  William  Sumner.  He  did  not  believe  in 
flattering  either  parents  or  children,  but  he 
must  say  he  thought  they  had  set  an  example 
of  true  manliness,  which  it  would  be  well  for 
all,  whether  old  or  young,  to  imitate.  He 
should  not  go  into  particulars;  there  were 
some  things  which  were  weakened  by  being 
too  accurately  denned.  He  was  sure  the  audi- 
ence understood  him  perfectly.  He  would  only 
repeat  the  adage  which,  when  he  was  a  school- 
boy himself,  he  had  so  often  written  in  his  copy 
book,  "  Win  and  Wear"  He  trusted  his  hear- 
ers would  all  make  the  practical  application 
for  themselves. 

James  and  Willie  were  the  only  two  among 
the  whole  who  did  not  perfectly  understand 
him,  though  Willie  wondered  much  over  it  as 
he  ran  home,  glad  the  examination  was  over, 
glad,  too,  of  a  vacation  in  which  he  might  help 
his  mother. 
6* 


IV. 

ans  for 


ii  QOMETHING-  must  be  done  for  that  boy," 

^  said  Mr.  Ashton  to  His  wife,  the  night 
after  the  examination.  I  wish  I  knew  just 
what  would  be  right  and  best." 

"  What  boy  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Ashton,  looking  up 
from  her  work,  and  thinking  only  of  James. 

"  Why,  Willie  Simmer,  to  be  sure.  There  is 
promise  in  that  child.  You  should  have  heard 
him  recite  to-day.  James,  with  the  advantages 
and  care  he  has  had,  was  not  quite  his  equal  ; 
and  Willie  may  have  been  said  to  have  made 
himself.  Only  think  what  a  home  he  has  !  I 
have  no  doubt,  if  the  truth  were  known,  we 
should  find  there  was  often  positive  suffering 
there,  both  from  want  of  food  and  from  per- 
sonal abuse." 

"  Yes,"  answered  Mrs.  Ashton,  whose  heart 

(66) 


PLANS   FOR  WILLIE.  67 

was  as  kind  and  tender  as  her  husband's  ;  "  1 
can  never  forget  how  that  poor  deaf  and  dumb 
child  looked  that  day  you  brought  her  home. 
After  I  have  been  to  see  our  own  children  all 
tucked  up  so  nice  and  warm  at  night,  and  look- 
ing so  rosy  and  happy,  I  cannot  sleep  for 
thoughts  of  those  little  things  there.  I  am 
really  afraid  their  father  will  kill  them,  some- 
time. What  a  brute  he  is !  " 

"  Yes.  I  suppose  no  one  but  God  can  ever 
know  how  much  bitterness  is  mingled  every 
day  in  this  wife's  cup.  I  have  no  doubt  she 
suffers,  really  suffers  more  in  one  week  than 
many  of  the  rest  of  us  shall  in  our  lifetime  ; 
and  yet,  how  little  she  seems  to  any  of  us  to 
need  this  discipline !  Surely,  God's  ways  are 
not  our  ways." 

"  Nor  His  thoughts  our  thoughts,"  added  Mrs. 
Ashton.  "  I  am  often  struck,  when  events  look 
as  inexplicable  as  this  does,  with  the  dif- 
ferent manner  in  which  God  thinks  of  the 
same  tiling.  But  about  Willie  :  I  do  wish  we 


68  WIN  AND   WEAR. 

could  do  something  that  would  really  help  him 
He  ought  to  have  an  education.  What  a  man 
he  might  make  !  " 

"And  must  make,  with  God's  blessing," 
said  Mr.  Ashton.  "  But  there  is  one  thing  in 
the  way.  Willie  is  precisely  that  kind  of  boy 
who  can  only  be  helped  by  being  allowed  to 
help  himself.  I  mean,  that  he  would  not  accept 
money  which  he  had  never  earned.  Nor  do  I 
believe  you.  could  by  any  inducement  tempt 
him  away  from  home,  so  long  as  he  thought  his 
being  there  was  a  comfort  or  protection  to 
his  mother." 

"  Protection !  what  possible  protection  could 
such  a  boy  be  against  a  drunken  father  ?  " 

"  More  than  it  would  seem.  There  is  a  cer- 
tain manliness  about  the  little  fellow  which 
you  see  affects  even  me.  I  should  not  like  to 
offer  him  money  unless  I  could  find  a  good 
excuse  for  doing  so." 

"  You  are  the  very  person  to  help  him.  You 
have  so  much  delicacy  yourself,  that  you  would 


PLANS   FOR  WILLIE.  69 

never  wound  him.  Rich  people  are  very  apt 
to  forget  that  the  poor  have  feelings.  For  my 
part,  I  am  constantly  becoming  more  and  more 
sure  that  the  reason  why  there  is  so  little  real 
gratitude  in  the  world  is,  because  so  much  is 
demanded,  because  the  needy  know  that  the 
rich  give  only  a  very  small  part  of  their 
worldly  substance,  and  require  in  return  what 
is  far  more  precious  than  silver  and  gold. 
You  are  an  exception  ;  you  always  give  as  if 
you  were  receiving  the  favor." 

"  Ah !  my  wife,"  said  Mr.  Ashton,  his  voice 
trembling,  "  it  is  because  I  have  found  how 
much  more  blessed  it  is  to  give  than  to  receive. 
I  always  feel,  when  I  am  allowed  to  do  any 
little  thing,  as  if  God  were  giving  me  a  great 


The  tears  came  into  Mrs.  Ashton's  eyes. 
"  No  wonder,"  she  said,  "  our  boy  is  so  good, 
with  such  a  father ! " 

"  You  and  I  always  end  our  conversations  by 
saying  very  pleasant  things  to  each  other," 


70  WIN   AND    WEAR. 

said  Mr.  Asliton,  smiling  ;  "  but  I  don't  know 
that  it  brings  us  any  nearer  the  object." 

"  Oh !  to  be  sure,  helping  Willie !  Well,  what 
will  you  do  ?  I  am  ready  for  any  thing." 

"  He  is  now  ten  years  old,  but  if  he  remains 
at  home,  his  father  will  be  growing  worse  and 
worse  ;  and  by  and  by  this  life  will  destroy  all 
his  love  of  books,  and  he  will  be  lost." 

These  worthy  people  discussed  this  difficult 
question  until  late  at  night,  and  the  result  of 
the  conversation  will  be  made  manifest  to  our 
readers  as  they  proceed  with  the  storj. 

Early  the  next  morning  Mr.  Ashton  went  to 
Mr.  Sumner's  house ;  but,  early  as  it  was,  the 
jug  was  already  in  his  hand,  and  he  was  about 
leaving  the  house  to  pawn  his  last  book  for 
liquor. 

"  Just  in  time,  I  see,"  said  Mr.  Ashton,  cheer- 
fully. "  I  have  a  little  business  I  should  like 
to  have  you  do  for  me,  and  I  should  be  sorry 
to  have  been  too  late.  Come,  suppose  you 
Btep  up  to  the  mill  with  me.  It  may  prove 


PLANS   FOR   WILLIE.  71 

something  of  a  job  ;  but  I  hardly  like  to  drive 
over  to  Rowley  for  a  lawyer,  when  we  have 
such  a  good  one  at  home." 

Mr.  Sumner  made  several  awkward  attempts 
to  conceal  his  jug.  It  was  the  first  symptom 
of  shame  he  had  evinced  for  months,  and  Mr. 
Ashton,  looking  away,  gave  him  the  opportu- 
nity. This  done,  Mr.  Ashton  began  a  pleasant 
conversation  with  him,  speaking  from  time  to 
time  to  Mrs.  Sumner,  who,  divided  between 
fear  and  pleasure,  hardly  knew  what  answers 
she  made. 

At  length  Mr.  Ashton  glided  entirely  into 
the  business  affair ;  and  she  was  content,  as  she 
saw  by  her  husband's  clear  and  concise  an- 
swers, that  he  not  only  comprehended,  but  was 
interested  in  the  matter. 

Willie  came  in  from  splitting  his  wood,  with 
very  rosy  cheeks.  He  was  surprised  to  see  Mr. 
Ashton  and  his  father  talking  so  earnestly  to- 
gether, and  would  have  stolen  out  again  ;  but 
Mr.  Ashton  saw  and  stopped  him. 


72  WIN   AND  WEAR. 

"  Ah,  Willie !  good-morning ;  so  the  success 
of  yesterday  did  not  make  you  forget  your 
mother's  wood.  I  am  glad  of  it.  I  have  heard 
you  chopping  away  like  a  hero  ever  since  I 
have  been  here.  Which  do  you  love  best, 
work,  or  books  ?  " 

"  Sometimes  one,  and  sometimes  the  other/ 
answered  Willie,  timidly,  "just  as  I  have 
them  to  do." 

"  That  is  right,  my  boy.  What  is  the  old 
rhyme  about  all  work  and  no  play  ?  " 

Mr.  Simmer  was  the  only  one  who  could 
repeat  it ;  to  do  so  was  a  new  mark  of  in- 
terest. He  seemed  almost  to  have  forgotten 
that  he  had  children  before. 

"  If  you  can  spare  Willie  a  little  while,"  said 
Mr.  Ashton,  looking  at  Mrs.  Sumner,  "  my  boy 
would  be  very  glad  to  have  him  drive  over  to 
Bristol  with  him.  It  is  vacation,  you  know, 
and  they  both  did  so  well  yesterday  they  want 
a  little  recreation." 

Willie's  eyes  sparkled  with  pleasure.    Mr. 


PLANS   FOB   WILLIE.  73 

Ashtou  wondered,  as  he  looked  from  them  to 
his  mother's,  lighted  up  with  the  same  pleasure, 
that  he  had  never  noticed  how  much  they 
looked  alike  before. 

"  He  will  stop  for  you  as  the  clock  strikes 
nine.  Wrap  up  warm,  for  it  is  very  cold — or 
stay,  my  wife  said  James  had  a  nice  overcoat 
which  was  always  too  small  for  him,  and  she 
wanted  it  carried  for  the  shop-keeper  to  send 
more  cloth  of  the  same  kind.  Now  if  you  will 
just  slip  it  on — James  can't  wear  it — it  will 
save  it's  getting  down  in  the  bottom  of  the 
sleigh.  Boys  don't  keep  every  thing  right 
side  up,  you  know,  Mrs.  Sumner" — but  Mrs. 
Sumner  was  gone.  She  had  slipped  away  after 
her  husband,  who  was  attempting  to  rub  up  his 
threadbare  coat,  and  to  make  himself  "  look  de- 
cently" before  going  to  the  mill.  As  gently  and 
tenderly  as  in  those  first  summer  days  of  their 
married  life,  Mrs.  Sumner  assisted  him.  She 
could  not  help  glancing  up  to  him,  almost  hop- 
ing it  was  not  a  delusion,  that  he  was  himself 
7 


74  WIN   AND   WEAE. 

again  ;  but  his  red  and  bloated  face,  the  dull, 
heavy  eyes  and  the  red  lids  "were  there.  Still 
she  began  to  hope  ; — was  there  ever  a  true  af- 
fection in  which  the  hope  of  better  things  was 
not  the  last  spark  to  die  out  of  the  heart  ? 

She  stood  at  the  window,  and  watched  him 
as  he  went  away  with  Mr.  Ashton.  She  had 
little  doubt  how  he  would  return  at  night,  but 
even  this  short  reprieve  was  a  blessing,  and 
might  be  only  the  beginning  of  better  times. 

The  first  thing  Willie  had  to  tell  her,  after 
they  left,  was  about  the  overcoat. 

"  Only  think,  mother,"  he  said,  "  how  very 
nice !  I  should  have  shivered  away,  even  under 
the  buffalo.  Sometimes  I  grow  so  cold,  when 
I  am  out  a  long  time,  that  it  seems  as  if  I  never 
could  get  warm  again  ;  and  I  will  be  very 
careful  of  it,  not  to  soil  it  in  the  least." 

"  That's  a  good  boy,"  said  his  mother. 

"Willie  looked  at  her  eagerly  ;  there  was  a 
sound  of  the  old  music  in  her  voice.  What  could 
it  moan  ?  "  What  a  good  mother  she  is,"  he 


PLANS   FOB  WILLIE.  75 

thought ;  "  the  least  thing  that  makes  me  happy 
is  so  much  to  her." 

Punctual  as  the  clock,  James  came  driving 
up  to  the  door.  He  had  two  sets  of  bells,  and 
two  very  heavy  buffaloes,  and  the  overcoat, 
which  he  threw  out  to  Willie  as  he  stopped. 
Willie  had  never  put  one  on  before.  He  tried 
not  to  be  awkward  about  it,  but  he  was,  very. 
He  put  one  arm  in  easily  enough,  but  that  se- 
cond arm ! — he  tried  it  up — no,  that  wouldn't 
do  ;  he  tried  it  down,  but  couldn't  find  the 
arm-hole  ;  he  tried  it  behind,  but  it  constantly 
evaded  him.  His  mother  came  to  his  rescue, 
buttoned  it  up  tight  to  his  chin,  and  with  much 
gratification  once  more  stood  at  the  window 
to  watch  them  out  of  sight.  Lotty  had  caught 
a  glimpse  of  James  as  he  drove  up,  and  had 
darted  out  to  the  sleigh.  James  caught  her 
up,  kissed  her,  and  thrust  a  fruit-cake  he  had 
brought  on  purpose  into  her  pocket.  As  Mrs. 
Sumner  turned  from  the  window,  she  saw  her 
dividing  it  with  Warren,  and  only  caught  up 


76  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

the  baby  in  time  to  prevent  a  great  piece  being 
pushed  into  her  mouth. 

So  commenced  Willie's  vacation.  Every 
mile  of  the  way  the  boys  were  conscious  of  the 
fact.  They  eagerly  discussed  the  examination 
of  the  day  before,  their  studies  for  the  coming 
time,  and  Willie  thought,  as  they  flew  along  to 
the  music  of  the  merry  bells,  he  was  never  so 
happy  before.  They  had  a  "  grand  time," — they 
both  said  so,  and  who  should  know  better  ? 
No  cloth  could  be  found  to  match  the  overcoa  t, 
but  all  the  other  shopping  was  satisfactorily 
done.  As  they  stopped  once  more  at  Willie's 
door,  and  he  commenced  unbuttoning  the  coat 
to  return  it,  James  said, — 

"  Hold  on,Willie !  mother  said  if  we  couldn't 
match  that  coat,  she  could  never  do  the  least 
thing  in  the  world  with  it,  and  if  your  mother 
would  let  you  wear  it,  it  would  save  her  the 
trouble  of  keeping  it  from  the  moths.  It  fits 
you  splendidly;  you  just  wear  it  in,  and  we  will 
talk  about  it  next  time  I  come.  Good-bye." 


PLANS  FOB  WILLIE.  77 

Willie  stood  confounded.  It  must  be  confess- 
ed  that,  as  he  rode  so  comfortably  along,  he 
had  given  many  thoughts  to  the  nice  warm 
garment  he  wore.  He  had  wished  his  father  was 
rich,  so  that  he  could  give  him  one  ;  he  had 
wished  that  he  was  a  man,  so  that  he  could 
earn  one  for  himself ;  he  almost  wished  he  had' 
never  put  it  on,  so  as  not  to  know  how  much 
comfort  he  had  lost ;  but  all  these  thoughts  did 
not  interfere  at  all  with  his  enjoyment.  He  had 
been  early  taught  by  his  good  mother  that  it 
was  wrong  to  repine  ;  that  the  only  way  to  be 
a  true  Christian  was  to  receive  life  as  God 
had  sent  it,  without  murmuring.  Did  Willie 
really  wish  to  be  a  Christian  ?  We  do  not 
know  how  we  can  answer  better  than  by  say- 
ing, that  during  this  ride  he  had  remembered 
this  duty  often,  and,  boy  as  he  was,  had  asked 
for  strength  to  submit  to  his  life,  like  one  whom 
Christ  could  love. 

As  this  coat  had  been,  notwithstanding  it 
had  added  so  much  to  his  comfort,  rather  a 
7* 


78  WIN  AND  WEAR. 

source  of  trial  to  him  too,  he  stood  now,  until 
the  sound  of  the  sleigh-bells  had  entirely  ceased, 
without  moving,  wondering  what  it  could 
mean, — if  God  had  heard  him,  and  was  answer- 
ing his  only  half-thought  prayer,  or,  if  he  had 
misunderstood  James.  His  mother's  knock  on 
the  window  first  recalled  him. 

"  Willie,"  she  said,  as  he  entered,  "  you  have 
forgotten  the  overcoat ;  run  as  fast  as  you  can 
after  James,  and  if  you  can't  overtake  him,  go 
directly  to  the  house." 

"  Mother,"  said  Willie,  half  hesitating  what 
to  say,  "unless  I  am  very  much  mistaken, 
James  gave  me  this  coat.  He  said  his  mother 
wanted  you  to  keep  it  from  the  moths,  or  some 
such  thing,  I  hardly  know  what.  He  drove 
right  away  without  giving  me  time  to  say  a 
single  word.  What  shall  we  do  now  ?  " 

"  What  would  you  like  to  do,  my  son  ?  "  said 
Mrs.  Sumner,  thoughtfully. 

"  Just  what  is  right,  mother,"  answered  Wil- 
lie, casting  some  very  lo aging  looks  to  the 


PLANS  FOR. WILLIE.  79 

coat,  a?  he  began  to  take  it  off.  "  I  never  had 
on  such  a  \varm  thing  in  all  my  life,  and  if  it 
is  right  to  keep  it,  I  think — I  think,  but  I  do 
not  feel  certain,  that  I  could  earn  it,  and  pay 
Mrs.  Ashton  what  she  thinks  it  is  worth." 

"  Well  said,  Willie,"  said  his  mother,  smiling. 
She  thought  there  must  be  something  in  the 
mannishness  of  the  coat,  which  had  made  her 
boy  suddenly  old.  "  But  what  could  a  little 
fellow  like  you  do  towards  earning  money  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  mother — not  much  I  fear,  only 
I  would  try.  '  Win  and  wear,'  Mr.  Ross  said ;  I 
did  not  know  exactly  what  he  meant,  but  I 
think  it  was  something  like  this  :  If  you  do 
not  earn  your  coat,  you  have  no  right  to  wear 
it.  I  will  take  the  coat  on  my  arm,  if  you  have 
no  objection,  and  go  up.  to  Mrs.  Ashton,  and  I 
will  tell  her  the  truth  without  any  hesitation." 

"  And  what  do  you  regard  as  the  truth  ?  " 

"  Why,  simply  this :  that  the  coat  is  very  nice ; 
that  I  should  like  it  right  well ;  that  we  can't 
afford  to  buy  it  and  pay  money  for  it ;  but  if 


80  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

she  will  tell  me  any  way  in  which  I  can  ear  a 
it  during  this  vacation,  I  shall  be  willing  to  do 
any  thing  which  I  can  do  well." 

"  I  think  that  is  the  right  and  the  manly 
way,  Willie,"  said  his  mother,  quietly.  "  I  am 
perfectly  willing  you  should  do  as  you  have  a 
fancy  to." 

"  Thank  you,  mother  ;  you  are  always  kind," 
said  Willie,  preparing  at  the  same  time  to  go. 

"  Here  is  your  dinner — I  have  kept  it  ready 
for  you  ;  you  had  better  eat  before  you  go." 

"  Eat  1 "  said  the  excited  child  ;  "  I  couldn't, 
mother,  if  you  had  roast  beef  and  plum  pud- 
ding. James  had  such  a  big  basket  full  of 
lunch  put  up  for  us,  I  thought,  when  I  first  saw 
it,  that  it  was  enough  for  all  our  dinners  at 
home ;  but  somehow  th,e  basket  was  empty  when 
I  left  it.  You  wouldn't  think  I  could  eat 
another  morsel  for  a  week,  if  you  had  seen 
how  it  went." 

Mrs.  Sumner  had  known  many  and  many  a 
time,  when  she  was  sure  the  boy  had  gone 


PLANS   FOR   WILLIE.  81 

hungry  to  school,  for  the  supply  for  all  the 
children  had  scarcely  been  more  than  one 
strong  boy  would  require.  She  was  grateful 
to  Mrs.  Ashton  for  her  thoughtful  kindness, 
and  grateful  also  to  that  kind  heavenly  Father 
who  never  forgot  nor  forsook  her,  though 
clouds  and  darkness  were  often  round  about 
her.  Now  she  could  not  resist  the  pleasure 
of  folding  up  nicely  that  new  coal,  and  laying 
it  carefully  upon  her  boy's  arm,  as  if  it  was 
the  harbinger  of  many  coming  blessings.  He 
was,  as  she  had  called  him,  "  a  little  fellow."  A 
hungry  child,  and  especially  an  anxious  one, 
has  a  very  slender  chance  to  develop  physi- 
cally, and  Willie  had  often  been  both.  No 
wonder  that  he  was  scarcely  larger  than  many 
boys  of  eight ;  but  he  had,  as  we  have  seen,  that 
very  doubtful  substitute  for  bodily  growth — 
an  undue  growth  of  brain.  His  mind  was  far 
in  advance  of  many  boys'  nearly  double  hia 
age. 

James  Ashton  saw  him  before  he  reached 


82  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

the  house,  and  saAV  the  coat  upon  his  arm, 
"  Oh  !  mother,"  he  called,  running  to  the  par- 
lor, "you  were  right.  Willie's  mother  will 
not  let  him  keep  that  coat ;  here  he  is  back 
with  it.  What  shall  we  do  ?  " 

"  Keep  quiet,  James ! "  said  his  mother.  "  Per- 
haps he  has  come  for  something  else ;  don't  let 
him  see  it  troubles  you." 

"But  it  does,  mother ;  I  thought  I  had  it  all 
fixed  nicely,  and  now  it's  all  to  do  over  again. 
I  wish  people  wouldn't  be  so  proud  in  this 
world." 

"  Pride  is  the  protection  of  the  poor,  often/' 
said  Mrs.  Ashton,  as  Willie's  timid  knock  was 
heard  at  the  side-door.  James  hastened  to 
open  it,  but  Willie  missed  his  usual  cordial  re- 
ception. James  was  more  than  half  vexed,  for 
he  had  prided  himself  upon  the  skilful  manner 
in  which  he  had  driven  off,  without  giving 
Willie  time  to  make  an  objection.  I  wonder 
if  it  occurred  to  James,  when  he  was  wishing 
people  ''wouldn't  be  proud  in  this  world/' 


PLANS   FOR  WILLIE.  83 

that  lie  was  indulging  in  a  kind  of  pride  not 
nearly  as  honorable  as  the  one  he  was  con 
dcinning  ?  I  presume  not ;  but  as  these  two 
boys  stood  face  to  face  in  the  door,  this  frosty 
winter  noon,  they  were  illustrations  of  these 
two  kinds.  James's  was  easily  controlled  by 
his  good  sense  and  good  feelings  ;  Willie's  wag 
occasioned  by  his. 

"  Is  your  mother  at  home  ?  "  asked  Willie,  too 
much  excited  to  be  troubled  by  James's  slight 
coldness. 

"  Yes,  walk  in  ;  here  she  is  right  in  the  parlor. 
But  why  in  the  world  have  you  worn  your  coa.t 
on  your  arm  ?  Did  you  run,  so  you  had  to  take 
it  off?  » 

"  Not  exactly ;  for  I  did  not  put  it  on,  though 
I  have  run  a  good  part  of  the  way. 

"  Mrs.  Ashton,"  he  said,  hardly  waiting  for 
James  to  open  the  parlor  door,  "ray  mother 
thanks  you  very  much  for  having  offered  mo 
this  nice  new  overcoat,  and  so  do  I.  I  should 
ralher  have  it  than  almost  anything  I  can  think 


84  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

of;  but  I  feel,  and  so  does  mother,  that  I  should 
have  a  much  better  right  to  it,  if  I  could  earn 
it.  Mr.  Ross  said,  it  was  only  those  boys  who 
could  win  that  should  wear,  and  though  I  am 
very  small  and  not  very  strong,  still  if  I  could 
earn  it,  I  should  think  so  much  more  of  it  than 
if  you  only  gave  it  to  me." 

"  Dear  little  Willie,"  said  Mrs.  Ashton,  the 
mother's  heart  yearning  over  the  bright,  eager 
face  which  looked  so  imploringly  up  in  hers, 
"  I  think  you  look  more  like  being  nursed,  and 
taken  care  of,  than  being  put  to  work." 

"  But  I  can  work,  if  you  please,  Mrs.  Ashton, 
only  I  know  it  will  be  a  trouble  to  find  some- 
thing for  me.  It  was  because  you  were  so  kind 
always  to  me,  that  made  me  think — that  made 

me  hope — that "  Willie  began  to  hesitate, 

and  the  tears  to  start. 

"  Don't  cry,  Willie,"  said  James  ;  "  come,  you 
and  I  will  go  down  to  the  mill.  Women — even 
my  mother — don't  know  much  about  work,  but 
that  is  no  sign  that  father  don't.  Come,  I'll 


PLANS   FOE    WILLIE.  85 

help  you  j  I  should  like  the  fun  right  well,  and 
we  will  soon  earn  together.  How  much  will 
7011  take  for  it,  mother  ?  We  will  make  a  trade." 

Mrs.  Ashton  saw  at  a  glance  that  James  was 
on  the  right  track,  so,  taking  the  coat,  she 
examined  it  with  much  apparent  care.  "  Well," 
she  said  at  last,  "  I  can't  find  a  tear  or  rip  all 
over  it.  I  think  you  never  wore  it  a  half 
dozen  times.  I  really  do  feel  as  if  it  is  worth 
one  dollar  ;  and  if  Willie  can  earn  the  money, 
I  shall  be  glad  to  have  him  take  it  off  my 
hands." 

"  One  dollar!  oh!  mother,  you  are  a  perfect 
Jew  ;  it  is  not  worth  half  that  money.  Come, 
now,  trade  fair.  Seeing  it  is  you,  I  will  give 
you  fifty  cents  for  it,*  and  that  is  twelve  and  a 
half  more  than  it's  worth.  Or,  stop !  I  don't  know 
(taking  the  coat  to  the  window)— I  have  no 
doubt  there  will  come  a  hole  here  under  this 
pocket  soon.  I  always  do  wear  holes  there  the 
first  thing ; — say  twenty-five  cents,  now,  and 
be  reasonable  I" 


86  WIN    AN^    WEAK, 

Willie  began  to  smile — it  was  just  what  James 
wanted.  "  Come,  now !  going  !  going !  Say 
twenty-five,  and  I  will  knock  it  down.  A  grey 
coat  —an  overcoat,  gentlemen  and  ladies — with 
two  pockets  and  twelve  buttons,  black  velvet 
collar  and  cuffs — better  than  new,  because  James 
Ashton  has  worn  it — fine,  large  pockets  for 
apples,  hold  a  small  half  bushel  apiece — excel- 
lent to  coast  in — beside  a  variety  of  other  excel- 
lencies, too  numerous  to  mention.  Gentlemen 
and  ladies,  examine  for  yourselves — going  ! 
going  !  for  only  twenty -five  cents  ! '"'  These  last 
words  James  uttered  in  such  a  perfect  imitation 
of  an  auctioneer's  voice,  that  Mrs.  Ashton  and 
Willie  laughed  heartily.  But  Mrs.  Ashton  said 
the  coat  was  worth  one  doHar,  and  if  she  sold 
it  at  all,  she  would  not  take  a  cent  less.  Mill 
hours  were,  however,  over  now  ;  Willie  could 
leave  the  coat,  and  she  would  talk  with  her  hus- 
band about  work,  when  he  came  home.  Perhaps 
some  way  might  be  planned  by  which  it  could 
be  earned. 


PLANS    FOR   WILLIE.  87 

What  a  happy  boy  Willie  was,  as  he  went 
home!  And  how  kind  and  considerate  Mrs.  Ash- 
ton  had  been !  The  boy's  self-respect  was  invio- 
late. If  he  could  only  earn  this,  perhaps  he 
might  do  more  and  more  ;  and  pretty  soon,  who 
could  tell  how  much  comfort  he  could  be  to  his 
mother  ?  When  he  once  more  reached  home, 
Mr.  Ashton  was  just  saying  good-bye  to  his 
father.  He  had  business  around  that  way,  so 
he  walked  home  with  Mr.  Simmer,  and  the  poor 
man  was  very  grateful  to  him,  for  it  had  kept 
his  feet  from  turning  down  that  well-worn  path 
toward  the  dramshop.  Mr.  Ashton  stepped  in 
to  say  one  word  to  Mrs.  Sumner,  and,  happen- 
ing to  glance  back  as  he  passed  the  window, 
had  the  satisfaction^of  seeing  Mr.  Sumner  give 
the  money,  which  he  had  well  earned,  to  his 
wife. 

So  much  for  the  first  day  of  Willie's  vaca- 
tion. 


V. 

si  HI. 

THE  next  morning  Mr.  Sumner  was  to  go 
again  to  his  business.  He  showed  no  in- 
clination to  avoid  it.  He  even  said  to  his  wife. 
"  I  wish,  Mary,  I  had  a  little  better  coat.  Really, 
Mr.  Ashton's  head  workman  is  dressed  more  re- 
spectably than  I  am." 

"  I  wish  you  had,"  answered  his  wife  ;  "  you 
really  need  a  whole  new  suit.  Perhaps  if  you 
can  earn  for  a  little  while  as  much  as  you  did 
yesterday,  you  will  be  able  to  get  one."  Then 
she  told  him  the  story  of'  Willie's  overcoat^ 
and  how  the  boy  was  to  go  to-day  to  earn  it, 
if  he  could.  Mr.  Sumner  listened  in  silence. 
Every  word  conveyed  a  tacit  reproach  to 
him  ;  but  he  knew  that  he  well  deserved  it  all, 
and  that  his  wife  did  not  mean  to  wound  him. 
But  it  made  him  sad  ;  and  he  forgot  quickly,  in 

(fi8) 


THE   MILL.  89 

the  want  of  his  family,  his  own  new  clothes, 
and  went,  notwithstanding  the  strong  cravings 
of  appetite,  directly  to  the  mill. 

Mr.  Ashton  had  hardly  dared  expect  him; 
and  there  was  so  much  of  hearty  joy  in  his  re- 
ception, that  Mr.  Sumner  set  about  his  work 
with  a  zest  and  interest  he  had  not  known 
for  years.  His  business  was,  to  examine  a 
variety  of  claims  to  some  real  estate  which 
Mr.  Ashton  was  anxious  to  purchase,  but  to 
which  he  had  not  been  able  to  establish  a  secure 
legal  hold.  A  poor  widow  claimed  the  land 
as  hers.  She  said  it  had  been  willed  to  her 
by  her  father,  who  was  one  of  the  original 
settlers  ;  but  as  she  was  a  "  lone  being,"  without 
any  one  to  defend  her,  it  had  been  claimed 
and  occupied  by  a  man  who  had  sold  it  out  in 
shares  to  suit  his  own  pleasure.  She  had  no 
money  to  go  to  law  with,  and  so  it  had  gone. 
But  now  Mr.  Ashton  wished  to  buy.  He  went 
to  the  root  of  the  matter  ;  and  here  was  this 
unheard,  unthought-of  widow's  claim,  in  the 
S* 


90  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

hands  of  a  strong,  just  man,  who  would  see 
right  done.  "  I  have  had  trust  in  God,"  said 
the  poor  woman,  "  through  all  these  long  years, 
while  I  have  seen  Mr.  Jones  grow  rich  by 
his  gains  from  that  same  land.  I  knew  He 
said,  in  many  places  in  His  good  book,  that 
the  wicked  should  not  always  prosper,  and  that 
He  would  protect  the  widow.  I  am  old  now, 
sir,  and  most  through  ;  but  I  have  a  relative 
to  whom  it  would  do  much  good  to  leave  this, 
when  I  die." 

The  widow  had  not  in  possession  her  father's 
will  •  indeed,  she  had  no  idea  what  had  become 
of  it.  She  had  had  two  brothers.  They  were 
both  dead,  and  there  was  of  their  families  only 
this  one  child  living.  She  had  married  badly, 
she  knew,  but  could  tell  nothing  more  about 
her. 

This  was  all  the  information  to  be  obtained. 
The  woman  lived  in  a  town  sixty  miles  dis- 
tant. Mr.  Ash  ton  had  elicited  from  her  all  he 
.could  .•  and  Mr.  Sumner  could  not  be  trusted 


THE   MILL.  91 

to  go  so  far  from  home  as  would  be  required, 
in  order  to  make  her  a  personal  visit.  But 
the  investigation  became  every  hour  more 
and  more  interesting  to  him,  and  he  found  him- 
self often  thinking  of  it  when  he  used  to  be* 
thinking  only  of  his  cup.  Pile  after  pile  of 
papers  Mr.  Ashton  laid  before  him.  The  work 
seemed  almost  interminable,  as  he  looked  at 
the  heap  ;  but  he  took  hold  of  them  with  the 
eagerness  of  a  hungry  man,  or  rather,  of  an 
active  mind  which  had  at  last  become  weary 
of  doing  nothing,  and  was  grateful  for  occu- 
pation. 

Willie  was  not  long  behind  his  father.  Run- 
ning until  he  was  all  in  a  glow,  he  reached 
Mr.  Ashton's  house.  James  was  ready  to  open 
the  door  as  he  came  up  the  steps. 

"  There ! "  was  his  first  salutation,  "  I  told 
you  men  were  better  than  women  for  finding 
work.  Just  as  soon  as  father  heard  about  it, 
he  said  he  had  plenty  for  us  both  to  do  ;  he 
Bhould  quite  like  to  hire  two  clever  hands. 


92  WIX    AND   WEAR. 

If  we  would  3ome  right  round  when  you  came, 
he  would  set  us  to  work  ;  he  wouldn't  tell  ua 
what  we  were  to  do,  until  we  came.  Now, 
sir,  in  two  minutes  I  will  be  ready." 

What  happy  boys  they  were,  as  they  started 
for  their  work !  They  had  not  been  as  happy 
on  the  previous  day,  when,  with  the  fine  horse 
and  sleigh,  they  had  the  pleasant  drive  before 
them.  Willie  was  to  make  his  first  effort  to 
earn  money  for  his  mother ;  and  James  was 
to  do  a  kind  act.  It  would  have  been  difficult 
to  tell  which  of  the  two  was  the  most  glad, 
as  they  ran  gaily  along  toward  the  mill ;  now 
sliding,  now  rolling  up  a  snowball  and  toss- 
ing it  as  far  as  they  could  toward  the  clear 
blue  sky,  and  now  stopping  to  break  off  a  glit- 
tering icicle  from  some  corner  of  an  old  log, 
or  making  new  paths  where  the  snow  was  the 
deepest,  or  a  bank  had  been  piled  up  against 
the  wooden  fence.  Of  course  they  took  much 
longer  to  reach  the  mill  than  if  they  had 
walked  demurely  along,  but  they  carried  m 


THE  MILL.  93 

with  them  bright  eyes  and  red  cheeks.  There 
was  a  glow  about  Willie's  face,  which  made 
him  almost  as  handsome  as  James  ;  and  many 
of  the  workmen  stopped  their  work  for  a  mo- 
ment, to  look  at  the  boys  as  they  passed.  Mr. 
Ashton  was  ready  for  them.  "  So,  my  boy," 
he  said,  patting  Willie  on  the  head,  "  James 
and  you  think  you  would  like  to  learn  to  work, 
as  well  as  study,  do  you  ?  Well,  I  am  glad 
of  it.  It  never  hurt  a  man  to  be  able  and 
willing  to  turn  his  hand  to  anything.  There 
is  a  great  deal  of  truth,  but  it  is  not  all  true, 
in  that  old  saying,  '  Jack  of  all  trades,-  and 
master  of  none.'  You  boys  will  serve  your 
trade  for  six  cents  a  card,  if  you  do  well.  But 
now  I  must  tell  you,  to  start  with,  I  never 
employ  any  but  faithful,  trusty  men.  The  first 
time  you  attempt  in  any  way  to  cheat  me,  I 
have  done  with  you.  Here,  Pat,"  he  called 
to  a  good-looking  Irishman,  who  was  his 
head  overseer,  "  take  these  boys  ;  they  are 
raw  hands,  but  I  w<mt  them  well  trained. 


94  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

Take  them  to  the  room  where  they  are  pasting 
on  patterns,  and  teach  them  how.  They  are 
to  work  very  neatly,  no  sham  ;  they  must 
earn  what  I  pay  them,  like  the  rest  of  you." 

Pat  laughed.  He  had  probably  received  in- 
structions before  from  his  master,  for  he  de 
parted  from  many  of  the  usual  rules,  and  seemed 
determined  to  make  the  employment  a  diver- 
sion if  he  could. 

He  conducted  the  boys  to  a  neat  room,  where 
they  found  a  bushel  basket  filled  with  small, 
square  pieces  of  different  kinds  of  calico. 

"  Why,  Pat,  said  James,  looking  askance  at 
the  calico,  "  you  are  not  going  to  put  us  to 
making  a  bed-quilt,  are  you?  I  forgot  my 
thimble  ;  I  am  afraid  I  should  have  to  go  home 
before  I  could  begin." 

"  Faith,  Master  James,"  said  Pat,  "  it's  not 
sewing  these  bits  that  you  are  to  do  ;  but  you 
are  to  quilt  them  on  to  a  large  card  with  a 
paste-brush." 

"  Ah !  yes,  I  understand ;  that  is  a  kind  of 


"  '  I  declare  it  is  as  g<  od  as  a  sum  in  square  root,'  said  James." 
fin  and  Wear.  p  95. 


THE   MILL.  95 

needle  I  haven't  a  doubt  I  can  use,  neatly  too. 
Come,  hurrah  for  business!  only  6}  cents  a 
card  I  I  tell  you  what,  Willie,  we  sha'n't  run 
any  risk  of  being  millionaires  to-day." 

Pat  went  to  work  systematically,  and  our 
young  workmen  were  soon  busy  at  their  task. 
How  very  simple  it  had  looked,  and  yet,  now 
they  were  fairly  at  work,  how  really  difficult 
it  was.  All  must  be  so  true.  If  the  side  of 
the  pattern  crooked  ever  so  little,  Pat  took 
the  calico  off,  and  they  must  try  again. 

"  I  declare,  it  is  as  good  as  a  sum  in  square 
root,"  said  James. 

"  You  make  it  crooked  root,  young  men," 
said  Pat,  laughing.  "  None  of  your  larning 
will  sarve  you  here ;  it's  a  straight  eye  you  want." 

"  Well,  neither  Willie  or  I  are  squint-eyed," 
answered  James.  "  What  puzzles  me  most  is, 
to  tell  which  is  the  up  and  the  down  of  all 
these  little  creatures.  What  are  they,  Pat? 
They  are  neither  fish,  flesh,  nor  fowl,  and,  I 
am  sure,  not  flowers." 


96  WIN    AND    WEAR. 

"  They  are  patterns,"  said  Pat,  simply ; 
"  I  have  never  heard  them  called  anything 
else. 

"  Jerry  Bates  was  very  anxious  to  learn  this 
very  same  thing,  and  I  tried  a  week  to  teach 
him  ;  for  you  see  his  father  died,  and  left  a  lot 
on  'um  with  nothing  to  sarve  them ;  and  master, 
he  would  do  for  them,  as  he  does  for  all  your 
needy  folks;  but  nothing  could  I  make  of 
Jerry.  He  put  these  patterns  always  upside 
down,  and  never  straight." 

"  For  the  upside  down,  Pat,  if  they  were  all 
so,  why  didn't  you  turn  the  cards  ?  They  would 
have  done  just  as  well." 

"  'Pon  my  honor  1  I  never  thought  of  that," 
said  Pat,  suddenly  struck  with  the  possibil- 
ity. "For  the  crook,  he  might  have  been 
cured  of  that ;  but  the  upside  down !  my 
patience  fairly  gave  out,  and  I  told  master 
'twant  no  use.  Its  hard  getting  a  Paddy 
right,  if  he  don't  take  to  it  natural  like  ; 
and  so  we  were  sorry,  for  Jerry  was  kind  of 


THE  MILL,  97 

delicate  like,  and  couldn't  work  in  the  mill, 
and  we  had  to  let  him  go." 

"  Can't  he  come  again,  and  work  with  us  ? 
we  can  teach  him,  you  know,  James !  "  whis* 
pered  Willie. 

"  First-rate !  of  course  he  can.  Pat,  look 
here  ;  you  call  that  boy,  and  we  will  see  that 
he  earns  a  dollar  to-day." 

"  Better  learn  yourself  first,  Master  James, 
and  when  you  have  we  will  talk  about  Jerry. 
See  there,  now !  that  is  as  crooked  as  a  ram's 
horn,  and,  I  declare,  bottom  side  up  too." 

James  laughed  good-naturedly,  and  soon 
righted  his  work  ;  but  it  took  all  the  logic  Pat 
possessed,  to  make  him  willing  to  wait  another 
day  before  Jerry  made  a  new  trial.  Pat  wag 
the  more  determined,  because  Mr.  Ashton  had 
told  him,  specially,  that  he  wished  the  boys 
kept  away  from  the  others  who  were  about  the 
mill. 

The  first  half  day  went  quickly ;  but  dili- 
gent as  they  had  tried  to  be,  neither  of  the 
9 


98  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

hoy  shad  earned  his  first  fourpence  ;  and  James, 
as  he  sat  down  to  dinner,  announced  to  his 
father  "  that  if  he  had  ever  had  a  thought  of 
making  him  a  manufacturer,  one  week  in  the 
mill  would  completely  cure  him.  There  could 
be  no  money  made  at  such  a  rate." 

Mr.  Ashton  had  expected  this.  James  loved 
to  do  what  he  could  do  quickly,  and  with 
great  results.  This  was  one  reason  why  he  loved 
his  books.  He  would  work  hard  while  he  work- 
ed, but  he  wanted  to  drive  right  through,  and 
be  done. 

"  Let  me  see,"  said  his  father,  "  you  earned 
about  ftmr  cents  this  morning  ;  Willie  the  same. 
If  you  work  hard  you  may  do  as  well  this  after- 
noon, and  that  will  be  sixteen  cents  towards  the 
coat,  almost  one-sixth  part  of  the  cost.  I  doubt 
if  such  a  coat  was  ever  earned  so  quickly  before." 

"  But.  father,  you  know—" 

"Yes,  I  know  all  about  it,  and  also,  J-ow 
much  easier  it  is  to  plan  to  do  good,  and  tt  as- 
sist otters,  than  really  to  do  it." 


THE   MILL.  99 

"  I  am  not  at  all  tired  of  helping  Willie,,' 
said  James,  the  color  coming  quickly  into  his 
face,  while  he  vacillated  between  being  vexed, 
and  hurt. 

"  I  did  not  say  you  were,  James.  I  am  only 
anxious  for  you  to  see  how  much  easier  it  is  to 
talk,  than  to  act.  You  have  had  a  pretty  hard 
morning  of  it,  but  you  have  had  your  first  im- 
portant practical  lesson  in  doing  good.  I  often 
think  you  children  might  be  to  each  other 
almost  ministering  angels.  You  can  come  nearer 
together  ;  you  can  feel  for  each  other  better 
than  we  old  people,  who  more  than  half  forget 
how  we  used  to  be  as  children ;  therefore  I  de- 
pend upon  you,  really,  to  do  good  to  Willie, 
instead  of  either  your  mother  or  myself.  I  will 
not  oblige  you  to  keep  at  work  with  him  at  the 
mill,  but  I  rather  advise  that  you  stand  fast, 
until  he  has  earned  his  dollar." 

"  Oh !  father,  you  don't  think  I  would  sneak 
out  now,  do  you  ?  So  far  from  that,  I  was  going 
to)  ask  if  you  wouldn't  let  that  poor  little 


100  WIN  AND   WEAR. 

Jerry,  that  is  so  stupid,  come  in  and  work  with 
us.  Between  us — Willie  and  I — I  know  we  can 
teach  him ;  at  any  rate,  we  can  try." 

"  Yes,  that  would  be  quite  a  good  idea,''  an- 
swered his  father.  "I  was  wondering  what 
I  could  do  for  Jerry.  You  see  you  are  already 
finding  out  what  it  is  to  be  a  ministering  child." 

"  Ministering  child  !  that  don't  sound  exactly 
like  servant,  more  like  a  minister  of  state,"  said 
James,  talking  half  to  himself.  "  I  can't  tell 
exactly  whether  I  should  like  it.  I  am  sure,  it 
grew  hard  before  twelve,  to  keep  pasting  away 
at  those  endless  little  patches,  and  then  not  to 
earn  a  fourpence,  either ! " 

"  You  must  win,  if  you  would  wear,"  said 
Mr.  Ashton. 

"  There,  father,  it  does  seem  as  if  I  was  fated 
to  hear  that  same  thing  from  everybody  lately. 
Mr.  Ross  said  so  at  examination,  and  I  have 
heard  a  dozen  fellows  repeat  it  since.  Now,  I 
could  understand  Willie,  when  he  said  he 
wanted  to  wir  his  coat  before  he  wore  it,  be- 


THE   MILL.  101 

cause  wearing  a  coat  is  the  most  natural  thing 
in  the  world  to  do  with  it ;  but  what  you  mean 
by  my  winning,  when  I  am  only  at  work  in  the 
mill  with  two  boys,  is  more  than  I  can  imagine. 
I  can't  wear  those  old  pasteboard  cards,  unless 
you  dress  me  up  as  they  do  boys  in  London, 
with  one  great  card  before  and  one  behind, 
and  send  me  out  as  a  walking  advertisement 
of  the  goods  you  manufacture  in  your  mill." 

Mr.  Ashton  laughed.  "  I  shall  not  do  that," 
he  said,  "  until  you  are  some  feet  taller  at  any 
rate,  so  that  you  may  make  more  show.  But 
what  I  mean  is  simply  this :  You  cannot  have 
real,  true  pleasure  in  doing  good,  unless  you  are 
at  some  pains  to  make  a  sacrifice  for  it ;  you 
must  win  that  happiness  by  exertion  and  by 
self-denial,  else  you  can  never  wear,  or  pos- 
sess it." 

"  Now,  father,  I  don't  feel  sure  of  that.  Sup- 
pose I  had  the  dollar,  and  Willie  was  willing 
to  take  it  from  me,  don't  you  suppose  I  should 
be  just  as  contented  and  happy  in  seeing  him 


102  WIN    AND    WEAR. 

wear  it.  as  if  I  worked  like  a  liero,  shut  up  in 
that  little  room  in  the  mill  all  my  vacation, 
without  having  a  moment  to  slide,  or  skate,  or 
ride  in  ?  " 

"  No,  indeed  you  would  not ;  for,  in  the  first 
place,  if  Willie  would  take  the  money  he  would 
be  a  different  kind  of  a  boy  from  what  he  is 
now,  and  you  would  not  love  to  do  half  so 
well  for  him  ;  and  then,  '  what  costs  nothing 
yields  nothing  in  return.'  But  it  does  cost 
me  a  hard  silver  dollar,  which  is  nothing  to 
you  in  comparison  with  a  day's  steady  work. 
Keep  on  ;  you  will  find  it  all  out  by  experience 
by  and  by." 

Willie  was  coming.  It  was  well  he  had  not 
heard  the  conversation,  for  all  the  way  to  Mr. 
Ashton's  he  had  been  troubled  by  the  thought 
that  he  was  obliging  James,  for  his  sake,  to  lose 
his  slides,  and  stay  shut  up  in  that  little  room 
at  work  ;  so  the  first  thing  he  said  to  James 
was,  "  Tames,  it  is  too  bad  to  keep  you  at  work 
for  me.  This  morning  I  thought  it  would  be  so 


THE   MILL.  103 

pleasant  to  have  you  with  me,  when  everything 
was  strange  and  new,  that  I  had  not  the  courage 
to  ask  you  to  go  ;  but  now  I  know  more  about 
it,  and  I  really  had  rather  go  without  my  over- 
coat twice  over.  I  am  sorry  I  must  have 
seemed  so  very  selfish  to  you.  I  was  selfish, .but  I 
did  not  mean  to  be.  I  did  not  find  it  out  until 
I  left  you  this  noon." 

How  James's  cheek  burned.  He  could  hardly 
believe  Willie  had  not  heard  all  the  conver- 
sation he  had  had  with  his  father,  and  he  could 
only  stammer  out : 

.  "  Willie,  upon  my  word  and  honor,  I  had 
rather  go  witli  you  than  not ;  and  even  if  I 
hadn't,  father  wouldn't  let  me  off.  He  never  lets 
me  put  my  hand  to  the  plough,  and  look  back. 
Last  night,  when  I  asked  him  to  let  me  go,  he 
said  he  would  give  me  the  whole  night  to  think 
it  over  in,  and  if  I  held  to  the  same  determina- 
tion this  morning,  he  would  not  prevent  me. 
He  never  hires  a  man  for  Jess  than  a  week  ;  so, 
as  I  knew  that  when  I  let  myself,  I  don't  see 


104  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

but  I  looked  before  I  leaped.  Come  on  !  we'll 
earn  twelve  cents  a  piece  this  afternoon  ; 
and,  what  is  first-rate,  father  says  we  may 
have  Jerry  in,  and  teach  him." 

"  Wait  until  we  have  learned  ourselves,"  said 
Willie,  laughing,  and  greatly  relieved.  If  we 
should  teach  him  wrong,  Pac  would  get  out  of 
patience  with  the  whole  of  us." 

The  afternoon  passed  more  quickly  than  the 
morning ;  and  when  the  boys  went  home  at 
night  they  had  earned  about  ten  cents  apiece, 
and  "  a  royal  appetite  "  for  their  supper. 

"Mother,''  said  James,  as  he  sat  down  to 
their  plentiful  and  neat  tea-table,  "  how  I  wish 
I  could  peep  into  Mrs.  Sumner's,  and  see  what 
Willie  has  for  his  tea.  I  am  as  hungry  as  two 
bears,  and  feel  as  if  I  could  eat  up  everything 
here,  tablecloth  and  all.  Now,  I  dare  say  he 
has  only  just  so  much  ;  and  he  is  always  think- 
ing of  everybody  but  himself,  so  if  there  is  not 
a  lot  there,  he  will  go  to  bed  hungry,  I  am 
Bure." 


THE  MILL.  105 

Willie  did  have  a  scant  supper,  and  did  go 
hungry  to  bed  ;  but  it  seemed  to  him  he  had 
never  been  so  happy  in  his  whole  life  before. 
His  father  had  come  home  sober.  Lotty  had 
crept  to  his  lap,  and,  lifting  her  hair  from  off 
the  wound  which  he  had  inflicted,  she  had 
motioned  to  him  to  kiss  it,  and,  taking  hia 
hand,  had  repeatedly  drawn  it  softly  over  it, 
her  token  of  forgiveness  and  reconciliation. 

Mr.  Sumner  tenderly  kissed  her,  put  both 
arms  around,  and  pressed  her  to  his  heart. 
That  heart,  it  seemed,  was  human  still ;  and 
Mrs.  Sumner,  with  tears  dropping  fast  upon  her 
baby's  hands,  lifted  her  hastily  up  to  conceal 
them,  while  the  child  danced  and  crowed  as  if 
it  had  a  perfect  comprehension  of  the  joy  of 
the  scene.  Willie  came  in  at  this  moment. 
James  needed  not  to  have  so  much  pitied 
him,  for  the  boy  was  more  blessed  that  night 
than  for  many  long,  long  weeks  before. 

When  Willie  went  to  his  bed,  he  sat  a  long 
time,  until  he  was  benumbed  and  stiff  from  th« 


106  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

cold,  thinking  over  the  events  of  the  day.  He 
had  a  feeling  of  having  been  thoughtless  and 
selfish  with  regard  to  James.  He  wondered  how 
lie  could  have  been  so,  when  he  had  that  very 
morning  asked  God  to  help  him  to  be  thought 
ful  and  careful  for  other  people.  He  began  to 
be  afraid  it  would  be  a  much  harder  thing  to 
be  a  little  Christian  boy  in  prosperity,  than  it 
had  been  in  adversity.  How  earnestly  he 
prayed  that  night ;  with  what  sincerity  and  hu- 
mility !  His  mother,  who  had  come  softly  up, 
as  was  her  wont,  to  see  if  he  was  comfortable 
for  the  night,  was  surprised  at  the  contrite, 
supplicating  tone  of  his  prayer.  She  went 
away  troubled  lest  he  should  have  been  doing 
wrong,  and  determined,  on  the  very  next  morn- 
ing, to  induce  him  to  give  her  his  entire  confi- 
dence. 

At  last,  after  much  tossing  and  turning — for 
Willie  was  too  tired  and  too  hungry  to  sleep 
easily,  even  after  he  had  lain  all  his  fatilta 
before  his  heavenly  Father,  asking  His  for- 


THE   MILL.  107 

giveness  and  assistance  in  never  erring  the 
same  way  again — he  fell  into  a  deep  sleep. 
The  late  winter's  sun  rose  before  him ;  and,  in- 
deed, he  might  have  slumbered  on  until  mill 
hours,  had  not  Lotty,  with  her  shrill  voice  and 
her  soft  hand,  broken  his  sound  nap. 


V. 


lS  morning  Jerry  was  to  go  with  them. 
It  was  almost  the  first  thought  Willie  had, 
as  he  hurried  through  his  breakfast,  and  started 
off  as  fast  as  he  could  run  for  James  ;  but 
James  had  been  up  and  out  long  before  him. 
Neither  hungry  nor  tired,  for  he  was  a  much 
stronger  boy  than  Willie,  he  had  gone  early 
to  sleep.  No  troubles  of  conscience  had  he  ; 
though,  in  reality,  he  had  been  quite  as  selfish 
as  Willie.  He  was  not  a  thoughtful  boy,  so  far 
as  right  and  wrong  were  concerned.  His  im- 
pulses seemed  to  be  almost  all  noble  and  good.' 
He  did  not  love  to  do  wrong,  because  it  made 
others  unhappy.  He  was  quick  and  bright,  so 
he  seldom  tried  the  patience  of  either  his 
teachers  or  his  parents.  The  consequence  was, 
that  he  was  found  little  fault  with,  and  Ma 

(108) 


JERRY.  109 

conscience  was  generally  at  rest.  He  always 
prayed  at  night ;  but  his  prayers  were  thanks 
for  the  blessings  received,  and  for  the  hap- 
piness of  a  very  happy  life.  James  never 
thought  about  his  being  a  sinner.  He  had, 
as  I  have  said,  very  little  idea  that  he  ever 
did  wrong.  He  was  so  amiable  and  pleas- 
ant, that  it  would  have  been  difficult  for  any 
one,  even  his  mother,  to  put  her  finger  upon  a 
positive  fault,  and  say  to  him,  This  needs 
repentance  and  forgiveness.  His  perfectly 
healthy  physical  frame,  too,  was  a  great  aid 
to  him  in  this  easy  kind  of  life.  He  was  never 
sick,  never  unhappy,  never  knew  a  real  want 
of  any  kind.  Life  was  a  beautiful  summer 
day,  and  he  floated  along  through  it,  plucking 
all  its  sweet  flowers,  loving  every  thing  he  saw 
with  a  warm,  glad  heart,  neither  uneasy  for  hia 
future  himself,  or  giving  cause  for  anxiety  to 
those  he  loved  best.  How  different  it  was  with 
Willie !  Delicate  in  body,  sensitive  and  shrink- 
ing in  mind,  sin,  sorrow,  shame,  had  been  con- 
10 


110  WIN  AND  WEAR. 

stantly  before  him.  It  is  no  wonder  that  his 
mother's  sincere  piety  was  also  greatly  colored 
by  the  circumstances  of  her  life,  and  that,  in 
her  education  of  her  boy,  she  should  early 
have  taught  him  strict  self-examination  into  his 
motives  for  action,  and  a  clinging  sense  of  de- 
pendence upon  the  love  and  mercy  of  God,  to 
be  a  shield  and  buckler  from  the  many  tempta- 
tions to  which  he  must  be  exposed.  Almost 
all  my  young  readers  will  say,  that  God  was 
much  kinder  in  the  events  of  life  which  He 
ordered  to  James,  than  to  Willie ;  but  they 
must  remember  that  it  is  those  '  He  loveth,  He 
chasteneth  ;  and  scourgeth  every  son  whom 
He  would  bring  near  to  Himself.' 

But  to  return  to  our  story.  James  had  been 
for  Jerry,  and  the  two  boys  came  running  to 
meet  Willie,  almost  out  of  breath.  Jerry  had 
been  at  school,  while  his  father  was  living,  but 
he  was  so  singularly  stupid  that  he  made  no 
progress  in  his  books  ;  and,  moreover,  he  was  so 
much  the  butt  of  the  school  for  his  thickhead- 


JERRY.  Ill 

edness,  that  Mr.  Lane  was  glad  to  have  him 
kept  at  home.  When  Willie  caught  a  glimpse 
of  his  great  stupid  face,  he  had  little  hope  of 
his  improvement  since  those  old  school-days, 
and  some  misgivings  as  to  their  power  of  ren- 
dering him  really  useful.  However,  he  received 
him  cordially,  and  laughed  at  the  wry  face 
which  James  made  up,  as  he  stepped  just  be- 
hind his  new  protege. 

Patrick  had  the  room  all  ready  for  them, 
but  shook  his  head  when  he  saw  Jerry,  as 
much  as  to  say,  "  You  can't  do  any  thing  with 
him.  Now,  do  you  suppose  you  are  smarter 
than  I  am  ?  He  beat  me,  and  hell  beat  you. 
But  young  folks  always  think  they  can  do 
every  thing.  The  best  way  is  to  try  and  see." 

Jerry  blundered  along,  stumbling  over  every 
obstacle  that  was  in  his  way,  until  Pat,  losing 
his  patience,  exclaimed,  "  That  boy,  as  sartin 
as  the  world,  has  his  eyes  in  the  back  of  hia 
head.  He  would  beat  his  brains  out  against 
the  side  of  the  mill,  if  some  one  did  not  call 


112  WIN  AND  WEAR. 

out  to  him ! "  At  that  instant  Jerry  pitched 
over  a  bale  of  cotton.  "  There,  I  told  you  sol " 
said  Pat,  indignantly,  while  Jerr}7  picked 
himself  up  and  commenced  rubbing  his  hands 
violently  •  "  he  would  fall  over  the  sun,  if  it 
happened  to  be  in  his  way.  He's  a  born  dunce, 
and  when  that  happens,  it  a'n't  no  matter  to 
try  to  do  any  thing." 

Jerry  looked  mortified.  If  he  was  a  dunce, 
he  had  sense  enough  to  feel  that  he  was  igno- 
rant and  stupid  ;  or  so  at  least  Willie  thought, 
as  he  began  to  be  sorry  for  the  boy. 

He  wondered  if  Jerry  might  not  feel  weak,  as 
he  did  sometimes.  Perhaps  he  had  had  no  break- 
Fast.  Jerry's  red  face,  however,  precluded  any 
idea  of  very  great  physical  weakness.  No  mat- 
ter, he  needed  pity,  or  something  else,  or  he 
would  grow  into  a  useless  man  ;  and  then, 
what  would  become  of  that  poor  mother  and 
all  those  little  brothers  and  sisters  ? 

It  is  really  singular,  and  shows  plainly  the 
directing  power  of  Go<?.  that  any  pure,  simple 


JERRY.  113 

effort  to  do  good  seems  to  have  a  boundless 
influence.  It  is  not  only  the  person  or  thing  to 
which  the  effort  is  applied,  but  all  those  tics 
and  relationships  which  bind  together  are 
touched  and  influenced.  Our  story,  in  its  prog- 
ress, will  specially  illustrate  this  truth. 

For  the  first  hour  after  they  commenced 
work,  James  could  do  little  but  laugh  at  Jerry. 

"  Why,  man  alive,"  said  he,  looking  over  his 
shoulder  at  the  card  he  was  busy  upon,  "  did 
you  ever  in  your  life  see  a  bunch  of  flowers 
tied  up  with  their  stems  at  the  top  ?  See  here  1 
here  is  a  rose  with  its  petals  hanging  down,  as 
if  some  child  had  broken  it  and  run  ;  and  there 
is  a  daisy  that  must  have  grown  in  the  sky, 
and  come  down  head  first !  Jerry,  you  ought 
to  have  nothing  but  hare-bells ;  they  grow 
your  fashion." 

Willie  could  not  help  laughing,  but,  taking 
off  the  pattern,  he  said,  in  a  cheerful  tone. — 

"  Never  mind,  Jerry,  you  have  to  pound  iron 
hard,  you  know,  to  make  it  fit,  but  when  it's  done 
10* 


114  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

it  isn't  easy  moving  it.  Now,  it  will  be  just  so 
with  you  ;  pound  away  at  flowers,  and  when  you 
once  find  out  where  the  stems  belong,  there 
will  be  no  getting  it  out  of  you.  Here,  see 
here !  these  little  things  are  stems  ;  stems  never 
go  round  so,  like  the  flowers.  Now  take  up 
another  piece,  and  show  me  which  is  stem  and 
which  is  flower." 

Jerry  fumbled  away  among  the  bits  of  cali- 
co. At  length  he  produced  a  queer-looking 
pattern,  a  thing  which  Pat  had  so  truly  pro- 
nounced "  only  a  pattern."  Having  surveyed 
it  carefully  on  all  four  sides,  he  at  length  de- 
cided, and  with  a  very  triumphant  air  held  it 
up  to  Willie. 

"  See  here !  there,"  pointing  to  the  nondescript 
things,  "there  is  a  rose,  with  the  leaves 
straight  up  like  a  ramrod ;  and  here  is  a  daisy 
growing — why  yes,  James  said  so — out  of  the 
sky,  and — and  a  cabbage,  I  guess,  growing- 
why,  in  Mr.  Carter's  tater  patch,  I  think." 

This  was  a  great  effort  for  Jerry,  and,  snp- 


JERRY.  115 

posing  the  boys'  laugh  one  of  approval  at  hia 
smartness,  he  would  have  gone  on  ;  but  Willie 
told  him  there  were  no  flowers  there — "  he 
could  put  that  on  any  way,  one  would  do  as 
well  as  another." 

"  Why,  I  thought  there  was  a  whole  lot  on 
'um,  a  kind  of  nosegay,"  said  Jerry,  not  a  little 
disappointed. 

Teaching  Jerry  occupied  and  amused  the 
boys  so  much,  that  the  clock  struck  twelve  long 
before  they  were  ready  for  it.  To  their  sur- 
prise they  found  that  they  had  not  accom- 
plished as  much  as  they  had  even  the  day 
before. 

When  they  came  back  from  dinner,  they 
found  Jerry  already  there,  and  a  great  variety 
of  pieces  spread  out  all  over  the  floor. 

"  Oh  !  Willie,"  he  said,  eagerly,  "  I  have  put 
all  these  stems  down.  Now  look  !  look !  I  shall 
only  have  to  paste  them  right  on." 

"  What  a  busy  boy  you  have  been,"  said 
James,  looking  at  the  patch-work  floor.  "  Cer- 


116  WIN  AND   WEAR. 

tainly  you  have  one  right  in  fifty,  if  this  is  the 

top." 

.    "  Yes,  that  is  the  top.     And  I  have  turned, 

and  turned,  and  turned  them  ever  since  .you 

went  away.     I  meant  to  have  some  right,  any 

how." 

"  You  are  industrious  as  a  bee,"  said  James, 
kindly.  "  You'll  make  a  man  yet,  only  keep 
on." 

"  You  beat  us  in  punctuality,  at  any  rate," 
said  Willie ;  "  and  Mr.  Lane  says  that  is  a 
prime  virtue,  the  root  of  all  others." 

"  I  didn't  go  away,"  said  Jerry,  looking  a 
little  ashamed. 

"Oh!  you  brought  your  dinner  with  you. 
Well,  that  is  a  grand  idea.  Let's  you  and  I  do 
so  to-morrow,  Willie,"  said  James. 

"  No,  I  didn't  bring  my  dinner,  either,"  an- 
swered Jerry,  sulkily.  "  A  fellow  can  stay 
without  eating,  I  suppose,  if  he  has  a  mind  to." 

"  If  he  has  a  mind,  certainly,"  said  James, 
not  a  little  astonished.  "My  father  has  no 


JERRY.  117 

laws  to  compel  his  hands  to  eat,  that  I  know 
of;  bit  you  don't  mean  that  you  have  been  here 
all  day  without  anything  to  eat?" 

"  I  a'n't  hungry,"  said  Jerry,  beginning  to 
rearrange  his  patterns. 

"  But  you  see  I  know  better  than  that,"  said 
James,  gently.  "  There  never  was  a  boy  that 
was  not  hungry.  My  mother — and  she  knows 
everything — says,  a  good  appetite  is  as  regular 
a  part  of  a  boy,  as  going  to  sleep  at  night." 

"  I  don't  care,  I  don't  want  any  dinner," 
persisted  Jerry,  putting  all  the  patterns  he 
had  straight  crooked.  "I  a'n't  hungry  one 
bit." 

James  was  putting  on  his  overcoat,  though 
be  had  but  just  taken  it  off.  "  Where  are  you 
going  ?  "  asked  Willie,  in  surprise. 

"  I  am  just  going  out  a  minute  or  so. ;  I  will 
go  and  tell  my  father  first,  so  you  needn't  be 
troubled,"  said  James,  and  away  he  went. 

While  he  was  gone,  Willie  went  hard  to 
work  to  teach  Jerry.  The  boj  had  much  con- 


118  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

fidence  in  him,  and  felt  sure  of  being  neither 
petted  nor  laughed  at.  It  is  wonderful  what  a 
key  to  every  thing  a  kind  word  is.  It  unlocks 
not  only  the  heart,  but  the  head.  Jerry  really 
began  to  have  some  idea  of  what  he  was  to  do. 
Willie's  comparison  of  the  iron  was  not  so  bad 
a  one.  Jerry  was  quite  as  hard  and  intrac- 
table, but  a  gentle  word  came  down  with  so 
much  more  weight  than  a  mallet  would !  Jerry 
had  been  thumped  with  these  all  his  lifetime, 
and  only  became  stiffer  and  more  stubborn. 
By  the  time  James  returned,  he  was  really  at 
work.  To  be  sure  he  took  a  great  while  to 
decide,  but  when  once  placed,  Willie  saw,  to 
his  delight,  that  they  were  right. 

James  came  in,  with  a  little  covered  basket 
in  his  hand.  How  red  his  cheeks  were,  and 
how  his  eyes  literally  danced  with  happiness ! 
"There,"  he  said,  putting  the  basket  down 
before  Jerry,  "eat  away,  like  a  trooper.  I 
could  not  do  the  first  thing  with  such  a  hungry 
fellow  here.  Why,  man,  I  should  have  been 


JERRY.  119 

expecting  to  see  you  eat  up  the  whole  basket 
of  calico  before  night !  " 

Jerry  stared.  The  most  stupid  stare  the  boys 
ever  saw  on  his  face.  Poor  boy !  he  had  never 
had  such  a  kind  thing  done  for  him  before  in 
all  his  life,  and  it  is  no  wonder  that  he  could 
not  comprehend  it  now. 

"Well,  I  declare,  he  don't  know  what  I 
mean !  See  here,  Jerry !  it's  nothing  but  to 
open  your  mouth,  and  eat  this  piece  of  pie  and 
that  cake  ;  and,  yes — I  thought  it  wouldn't  bo 
like  mother  to  forget — here  is  a  big  slice  of 
bread,  and  some  cold  meat.  Come,  fall  too, 
Jerry ;  let  us  see  how  fast  it  can  go."  Still 
Jerry  stared.  At  last  he  said, 

"  It's  a  full  mile  there,  every  inch  on't." 

"  Mile  where,  Jerry  ?  " 

"  Why,  down  there  to  Mr.  Ashton's  house. 
It's  a  full  mile  out,  and  another  back  ! " 

"  Well,  what  of  that  ?  " 

"And  he  went,"  continued  Jerry,  as  if  talk* 
ing  to  himself,  "  clean  there  and  back." 


120  WIN    AND  WEAR. 

"  That's  a  fact ;  but  it  don't  hurt  your  din- 
ner." 

"  I  couldn't  eat  a  mouthful,  nohow.  It  a'n't 
fair;  I  can't  eat  them  things,"  pushing  the 
basket  resolutely  away  ;  "  not  if  I  were  twice 
as  hungry  I  wouldn't." 

"  That  is  not  fair,"  said  James,  laughing 
heartily,  "  now  I  have  gone  and  done  it,  not 
to  eat  it !  Why,  I  took  a  bit  myself,  to  keep 
up  my  strength  ;  so  you  needn't  be  afraid.  I 
am  not  delicate,  mother  says." 

"  But  you  are  the  best  fellow  I  ever  saw  in 
my  life,"  said  Willie,  who  had  been  looking  on 
with  glistening  eyes.  "  Come,  Jerry,  eat  away, 
and  then  you  can  work  the  faster.  I  can  never 
do  much  if  I  am  hungry,  real  hungry,  I  mean  ; 
for  all  my  strength  gives  way." 

James  wondered  if  Willie  was  not  hungry 
•  too  ;  but  the  pale  child  stood  there,  with  his 
sufferings  and  his  wants  wrapped  in  an  im- 
penetrable veil  of  self-respect.  James  would 
not  for  the  world  have  hinted  at  what  he  more 


JERRY.  121 

than  half  suspected.  Still  Jerry  looked  at  the 
cover  of  the  basket  without  raising  it. 

"  Well,  Willie,"  said  James,  thinking  of  an 
expedient  which  might  assist  each  one,  "  you 
and  I  can  eat  it  if  Jerry  can't ; "  so  he  lifted  the 
cover,  and,  with  a  look  which  Willie  under- 
stood, handed  him  a  piece  of  pie.  "  There  are 
two  more,"  he  said,  peeping  in,  "  one  apiece.  I 
never  saw  any  thing  like  mother,  she  always 
thinks  of  everybody.  Who  would  have  thought 
she  would  have  remembered  you  and  I  ?  I  only 
asked  for  dinner  for  one." 

Willie  took  his  pie  ;  and  the  three  boys, 
sitting  down  on  boxes,  began  to  eat.  To  whom 
did  it  taste  the  best  it  would  be  difficult  to 
say.  Jerry  was  very  hungry  ;  he  could  forget 
or  stifle  it,  but,  when  food  was  once  tasted,  he 
devoured  it  ravenously.  Willie  had  slipped 
his  piece  of  bread  and  butter  on  to  Lotty's 
plate  when  his  mother  had  not  observed  him  ; 
and  how  rewarded  he  felt,  as  the  little  soft 
hand  patted  his  cheek  for  thanks !  He  did  not 
11 


122      •  WIN   ANi/   WEAR. 

know  that  he  was  hungry,  for  he  rarely  knew 
what  it  was  to  be  satisfied,  but  never  did  any 
thing  taste  better  than  that  piece  of  Mrs.  Ash- 
ton's  nice  pie. 

James  had  the  delight  of  doing  good.  Need 
I  say  another  word  for  his  enjoyment  to  my 
young  reader  ? 

When  night  came,  all  three  were  astonish- 
ed to  see  how  little  they  had  accomplished, 
scarcely  more  than  the  day  before.  Yet  they 
were  much  less  discouraged,  and  parted,  prom- 
ising wonderful  success  and  diligence  on  the 
morrow. 

Meanwhile  Mr.  Sumner  had  gone  busily  on 
with  his  work,  growing  daily  more  and  more 
interested  in  it.  And,  as  a  spark  of  his 
old  love  for  intellectual  employment  was  re- 
kindled, he  strove  against  the  cravings  of  his 
appetite  for  drink  with  more  of  manly  energy 
than  his  friends  had  dared  to  hope  remained 
within  him.  How  his  wife  watched  And  prayed 
for  him!  How  Willie,  kneeling,  tired  and 


JERRY.  123 

sleepy  at  night,  was  suddenly  roused,  by  thought 
of  the  sober  father  whose  step  he  heard  even 
then  pacing  steadily  up  and  down  the  small 
room  below,  to  utter  such  fervent  .thanks  to 
Him  who  had  caused  this  light  to  spring  up  in 
their  darkness. 


IV. 

Jfatin  Grammar. 

A  WHOLE  week  of  vacation — a  very  long 
**•  week  it  was  too,  to  James — passed  before 
the  coat  was  earned.  But  it  was  a  happy 
hour  when,  the  money  being  transferred  from 
their  pockets  to  Mrs.  Ashton's  hand,  the  over- 
coat was  put  upon  Willie  :  and  running  faster 
than  he  ever  remembered  to  have  ran  before, 
he  burst  into  his  mother's  room  with, 

"  Three  cheers  for  the  overcoat !  Here  it  is. 
James  and  I  have  a  right  to  it,  for  we  have 
won  it ;  earned  every  cent,  and  paid  it  too." 

"  Well,"  said  his  mother,  smiling,  "  is  it  still 
joint  property  ?  Who  is  to  wear  it,  James,  or 
you?" 

"  Why,  as  James  can't,  I  suppose  I  must. 
And  I  will  be  very  careful  of  it  too,  so  War- 

(124) 


LATIN  GRAMMAR.  125 

reii  can  have  it  when  he  grows  up  to  be  a  big 
boy." 

Warren  was  already  intently  studying  into 
the  mysteries  of  the  pockets ;  and  when  he 
drew  out  his  little  hands,  drew  out  also  two 
small  bundles.  One  was  marked,  as  Willie 
quickly  saw,  "  Lotty,"  and  the  other  "  Warren." 
In  one  was  a  pretty  doll,  with  four  or  five  sets  of 
dresses — a  tiny  doll,  but  with  such  pretty  red 
cheeks  and  shiny  black  eyes  ;  and  in  the  other, 
a  dozen  marblss,  all  kinds  and  colors.  War- 
ren's eyes  weie  as  shiny  as  the  doll's,  when 
Willie  placed  ihem  all  in  his  big  hand  and 
told  .him  they  were  his.  How  much  more 
valuable  this  coat  was  already !  Even  Lotty 
seemed  to  have  an  idea  that  it  was  connected 
with  happiness,  for  she  laid  her  soft  cheek 
on  the  velvet  collar,  and  patted  it,  with  her 
expression  of  love. 

Warren  went  down  again  and  again  to  the 
bottom  of  the  pockets.  He  could  hardly  be 
persuaded  that  they  did  not  contain  a  whole 
11* 


126  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

toy-shop  full  of  pretty  things  j  and  alternately 
eyed  his  marbles  and  the  coat,  as  if  the  relation 
between  them  was  most  mysterious. 

Willie  had  accomplished  his  object ;  and 
every  day  at  the  mill  seemed  to  have  added 
months  to  the  purpose  and  plan  .of  his  life. 
He  had  been  busy  thinking,  while  Jerry  and 
James  were  talking — thinking  over  his  future 
life ;  not  with  the  vague  dreaming  of  a  boy, 
but  with  aims  and  minute  plans.  There  is 
only  one  into  which  we  feel  at  liberty  to  intro- 
duce our  reader.  He  wished  to  follow  his  grand- 
father's profession,  and  be  a  minister.  Many 
a  boy,  poor,  delicate,  and  with  fewer  friends 
than  Willie  possessed,  had  become  rich  men — 
and  some,  great  men.  Willie  was  well  ac- 
quainted with  their  lives  ;  and  their  struggles 
had  often  encouraged  him,  when  the  obstacles 
by  which  he  was  surrounded  seemed  almost  in- 
surmountable. But  his  ambition  was  not  to 
make  money,  it  was  not  to  be  great ;  but  it 
was  to  be  good,  and  do  good, — to  obtain  the 


LATIN  GRAMMAR.  127 

Christian's  hope,  to  get  an  education,  and  bo 
come  a  minister.  These  were  Willie's  first  and 
dearest  wishes.  It  was  of  these  things  that 
he  had  thought  and  planned,  as  he  stood  busy 
with  his  pattern  cards,  in  the  noisy  mill.  And 
the  earning  of  this  coat — the  ability  to  possess 
himself,  by  effort,  of  what  he  wished — was  an 
epoch  in  his  young  life.  He  did  not  stop  to 
consider  that  he  had  not  done  this  alone : 
neither  did  he  annoy  himself  with  the  wonder 
whether  he  should  have  succeeded.  He  knew 
he  should,  unless  sickness,  or  something  in- 
dependent of  himself,  should  happen  to  pre- 
vent it ;  and  this  is,  after  all,  the  first  proof  "in 
a  boy  of  ability  to  succeed — self-reliance.  I 
mean  true  self-reliance,  founded  on  a  knowl- 
edge of  one's  own  power,  and  the  conscious- 
ness of  rectitude,  rights  thoughts  and  feelings, 
and  a  right  manner  of  living.  It  underlies 
manhood.  It  is  the  gold,  the  precious  ore 
of  character ;  and  without  it  no  one  can 
really  prosper, — can  become  either  truly  great, 


128  WIN   AND    WEAK. 

or  good  To-niglit  Willie  was  filled  with 
thoughts  of  the  future.  He  wished  the  children 
would  go  to  bed,  so  that  he  might  have  an  op- 
portunity to  talk  with  his  mother  before  his 
father  came  home.  But  he  did  not  mean  to 
begin  by  doing  wrong  ;  and  he  knew  that  to 
wish  to  send  them  away  before  their  time,  par- 
ticularly when  they  were  so  occupied  and 
delighted  with  their  playthings,  would  be  sel- 
fish, and  consequently  wrong.  It  is  so  much 
easier  to  plan  for  being  good  in  the  future,  and 
in  some  very  important  way,  thaa  to  start 
right  about  it  in  the  very  first  little  thing 
which  tempts  to  sinl  Willie  had  been 
thoroughly  taught  this  by  his  mother,  and  his 
own  rapidly  developing  Christian  character, 
had  daily  impressed  him  with  its  truth  and  im- 
portance. There  is  hardly  a  child  who  thinks 
at  all,  who  does  not  mean  at  some  time,  and  in 
some  way,  to  be  a  Christian.  But  how  few 
there  are  who  are  willing  to  begin  while  they 
are  children,  by  trying  to  do  right  in  a  very 


LATIN  GRAMMAR.  129 

small  matter.  To-night,  if  "Willie  had  asked 
his  mother  to  send  the  children  away,  and  had 
told  her  why  he  wished  it,  she  would  probably 
have  sent  them  at  once ;  but  would  Willie  have 
been  as  near  the  greatest  of  his  wishes,  that  of 
being  a  good  man  ?  We  leave  it  for  our  young 
friends  to  answer  for  themselves.  Time  would 
have  gone  slowly  ;  but  after  Willie  had  decided 
that  he  would  not  be  selfish-— so  immediately 
does  one  good  thing  lead  to  another — he  de- 
cided he  would  do  something  to  make  the 
children  happy  ;  and  he  gathered  them  all 
about  him,  and  began  to  show  them  how  to 
play  marbles.  His  mother  never  suspected,  as 
he  sat  there  on  the  floor,  surrounded  by  the 
little  group,  so  cheerful  and  patient,  that  her 
boy's  heart  was  really  aching  for  an  hour's 
long,  free  talk  with  her.  Nor  was  Willie  to 
have  it  to-night,  for,  before  bedtime  came,  his 
father  returned,  and  the  table  was  soon  covered 
with  yellow,  soiled  papers,  filled  with  writing. 
He  told  Willie  he  would  be  there  busy,  and  re- 


130  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

quire  a  quiet  room  all  the  evening  ;  so  the  boy 
went  to  bed,  and  tried  to  keep  awake  until  hia 
mother  should  come  up.  Sleep,  however,  over- 
powered him  ;  and,  when  Mrs.  Sumner  came 
softly  in,  the  beautiful  moonlight  streamed 
across  her  boy's  sleeping  face.  How  peaceful 
and  gentle  it  looked  in  its  soft  beams !  She 
could  not  help  fancying,  as  she  bent  over  him 
to  kiss  him,  that  it  almost  encircled  his  head 
with  a  halo.  In  spite  of  her  good  sense,  she 
went  to  bed  a  little  troubled ;  she  fancied  he 
had  looked  more  than  usually  pale,  and  a 
shadow  fell  over  her  heart  unlike  any  that  had 
rested  there  before. 

Very  early  on  the  next  morning  Willio 
wakened,  and  hastened  down,  hoping  he  might 
find  his  mother  awake  and  up  before  the  rest 
of  the  family.  Yes,  there  she  was,  sweeping, 
dusting,  and  at  the  same  time  preparing  break- 
fast, all  in  such  a  neat,  handy  manner,  that 
Willie  watched  her  without  being  able  to  in- 
terrupt her.  He  could  assist  her  in  many  little 


LATIN   GRAMMAR.  131 

ways,  anil  was  frequently  rewarded  by  a  smile, 
or  word  of  approbation. 

"  You  are  as  handy  as  a  girl,"  his  mother 
said,  as  he  laid  the  table,  with  that  care  which 
even  in  her  reduced  circumstances  she  was 
anxious  to  retain.  "  If  I  cannot  do  more  for 
the  comfort  of  my  children,  I  can  at  least," 
Mrs.  Sumner  often  said  to  herself,  "  give  them 
the  advantage  of  neat  and  proper  personal  hab- 
its. They  can  be  refined,  if  they  cannot  be  rich." 
So  she  guarded  them  in  every  little  thing  ;  and 
often,  when  almost  too  sick  or  weary  to  move, 
busied  herself  in  carefully  removing  every 
speck  of  dust,  or  in  placing  their  scanty  furni- 
ture so  that  it  should  appear  more  cheerful  and 
tasteful.  Mrs.  Sumner  had  certainly  brought 
the  spirit  of  the  old  pleasant  parsonage  to  her 
own  destitute  home. 

Willie  had  early  imbibed  this  spirit.  He 
loved  to  aid  his  mother  in  all  these  efforts,  and 
through  the  summer  had  made  it  his  especial 
care  to  keep  the  flower  vases — only  cracked 


132  WIN  AND  WEAR. 

tumblers  to  be  sure,  but  none  the  worse  for 
that  — filled  with  fresh  wild-flowers.  Hi? 
mother  seemed  so  occupied  this  morning,  that 
Willie  had  the  feeling  of  its  being  selfish  to 
interrupt  her  for  what  so  entirely  pertained 
to  himself,  when,  happily  for  him,  she  noticed 
his  unusually  earnest  face,  and  said,  the  thought 
of  her  last  night's  fear  crossing  her  mind, 
"  Willie,  are  you  sick  to-day  ?  " 

"  No,  mother,  not  one  bit,"  said  Willie, 
cheerfully.  "  I  am  only  busy  as  a  bee  planning 
out — oh  !  lots  of  pleasant  things." 

"  Such  as  what  ?  "  asked  his  mother,  smiling. 

"  Why,  such  as  growing  up  to  be  a  man,  and 
being  a  minister,  and  taking  you  home  to  a 
parsonage  like  grandfather's ! " 

There  was  a  slight  trembling  in  Willie's 
voice,  which  specially  attracted  his  mother's 
attention.  She  looked  earnestly  at  him,  and 
said, — 

"  My  poor  boy  !  have  you  already  begun  to 
think  of  the  future?  It  has  been  my  daily 


LATIN   GRAMMAR.  133 

prayer  for  you,  ever  since  you  were  born,  that 
you  might  be  as  good  a  minister  as  your 
grandfather  ;  but  every  year  we  go  further  and 
further  from  the  power  of  giving  you  an  edu- 
cation." 

"  I  don't  want  you  to  give  me  one,  mother. 
If  you  will  let  me,  I  will  earn  one  for  my- 
self." 

"  If  you  were  a  great  strong  boy,  and  had 
no  home-care,  you  might  succeed  ;  but,  as  it  is, 
perhaps  it  will  be  best  not  to  think  much  of 
it." 

Willie's  countenance  fell.  His  mother's 
word  was  law.  He  had  not  been  accustomed 
to  dispute  it,  even  in  thought,  but  he  had  never 
so  much  to  give  up  before.  It  was  very  hard  ; 
and,  in  spite  of  his  efforts,  tears  dropped  upon 
his  hands. 

"Willie,"   said    his  mother,   very   soberly, 

"  you  are  a  young  boy  yet,  not  eleven.     If  you 

are  really  very  desirous  to  have  an  education, 

suppose  we  only  put  it  aside  for  a  year,  then 

12 


134  WIN    AND    WEAR. 

see  how  we  shall  be  situated  at  the  end  of  that 
time.  Can  you  wait  happily  ?  " 

"  I  will  try,  mother.  But  I  thought  now 
Mr.  Ashton  has  given  me  work,  and  father 
was  earning,  so  you  wouldn't  need  it  very 
much, — if  I  could  take  what  I  earn,  and  buy 
me  a  Latin  grammar,  I  could  make  a  begin- 
ning. There  are  only  four  of  our  boys  who 
study  Latin,  and  every  term  they  get  further 
on,  away  from  me." 

"  How  much  would  the  grammar  cost  ?  " 

"  Seventy-five  cents,"  said  Willie,  sorrow- 
fully. "  I  know  it  is  a  great  deal,  almost  as 
much  as  my  overcoat." 

"  And  that  is  only  one  thing  in  a  very  ex- 
pensive course.  But,  Willie,  if  you  will  prom- 
ise only  to  work  half  of  the  day  you  may 
begin,  and  we  will  feel  our  way  along  care- 
fully. I  would  not  say  much  of  your  wishes 
to  any  one,  because  it  is  most  probable  you 
\r'll  not  be  able  to  earn  the  grammar  after  all." 

"  Thank  you.  thank  you,  dear  mother,"  said 


LATIN  GRAMMAR.  135 

Willie,  throwing  his  arms  about  her  neck,  and 
kissing  her.  "  If  you  saj  so,  1  know  I  shall 
succeed  ;  for  I  have  asked  God  so  many  times 
to  keep  me  from  doing  a  selfish  thing  about 
it,  and  guide  me  into  the  right  way !  He 
wouldn't  let  me  do  wrong,  when  I  have  never 
forgotten  for  so  long  to  pray  to  be  kept  from 
it,  would  he,  mother  ?  " 

"  Often,  Willie,"  said  his  mother,  "  when  we 
are  very  desirous  of  doing  a  thing,  we  are  apt 
to  take  the  permanency  of  our  own  wishes  for 
a  special  indication  of  the  divine  blessing  ;  but 
I  do  not  see  any  thing  selfish  or  wrong  in  this 
case.  To  be  a  minister  implies  being  a  very 
good  man,  and  working  all  your  life  long  for 
God." 

"  I  know  it,  mother  ;  and  that  seems  so  beau- 
tiful to  me.  I  had  rather  do  something  for 
Jesus  than  be  a  king,  or  as  rich  a  man  as 
Croesus.7 

"  God  bless  you,  darling,"  said  his  mother, 
fondly.  "  I  don't  know  how  I  can  ever  find  it 


136  WIN  AND   WEAR. 

in  my  heart  to  murmur  at  any  of  His  dispen- 
sations." 

Willie  did  not  quite  understand  her,  nor  was 
it  necessary  that  he  should.  And  just  now  the 
baby  began  to  cry,  and  Lotty's  soft  step  stole 
into  the  kitchen. 

"She  comes  like  a  sunbeam,  mother,"  said 
Willie,  looking  at  her  sweet  face.  "  She  is  so 
gentle,  and  still,  and  so  very  lovely,  that  I 
never  see  her  come  in  but  I  think  God  gave 
her  to  us  without  any  other  voice  than  he  gives 
the  sunbeams  and  the  flowers  ;  and  that,  while 
she  cannot  hear  us,  she  is  all  the  time  hearing 
the  angels,  and  tells  us  what  they  say  whenever 
we  look  at  her.  Now,  see !  I  am  sure  no  one 
ever  smiled  like  that.  Don't  you  believe  she 
nas  heard  things  to-night  which  make  her  holy. 
Sometimes  I  have  almost  a  fear  of  her,  she 
seems  so  pure  and  good,  so  different  from  us 
earthly  little  children." 

"  She  is  a  precious  child,"  said  her  mother, 
drawing  her  to  her.  "  People  call  us  afflicted, 


LATIN  GRAMMAR.  137 

because  God  sent  her  to  us  so  ;  but  I  think,  as 
you  do,  Willie,  that  she  is  almost  an  angel,  sent 
to  comfort  and  sustain  us."  And  so  mother 
and  son  talked  before  this  deaf  and  dumb 
child  these  thoughts  of  love  writing  them- 
selves so  legibly  upon  their  faces  that  the 
child,  to  whom  the  language  of  words  was 
forever  forbidden,  interpreted  this  silent  and 
true  language,  with  a  keen  appreciation  which 
sound  alone  could  never  convey.  And  her 
own  face  was,  in  truth,  as  radiant  as  the  sun- 
beam to  which  Willie  had  compared  her. 

After  breakfast  Willie  must  go  to  Mr. 
Ashton's  to  ask  leave  to  continue  his  work. 
This  was  readily  given,  though  Mrs.  Ashton 
thought  with  regret  of  those  pale,  thin  cheeks, 
growing  paler  and  thinner  by  such  constant 
confinement.  And  when  she  said  so  to  Willie, 
he  told  her  his  mother  had  prohibited  his 
working  more  than  half  the  day,  so  that  he 
should  have  more  playtime  than  he  would  know 
•what  to  do  with. 
12* 


188  WIN   AND    WEAR. 

James  rejoiced  much  more  at  this  part  than 
at  the  other.  He  had  had  all  he  wanted  of 
the  mill,  and  never  failed,  at  every  convenient 
opportunity,  to  repeat  to  his  father  his  inten- 
tion of  never  being  a  manufacturer. 

When  Willie  returned  to  the  mill  he  found 
Jerry  still  at  work.  The  iron  was  fairly  bent ; 
and  the  boy,  proving  industrious  and  persever- 
ing, was  already  beginning  to  help  his  mother. 
Willie  was  glad  to  find  him  there  ;  boys  are 
very  social,  and  work  is  twice  as  easy  when 
done  in  company.  So  these  two  boys  worked 
and  talked,  day  after  day,  James  coming  in 
occasionally  to  make  them  a  call,  until  their 
vacation  was  over. 

Willie  had  worked  very  diligently,  but  had 
not  earned  more  than  sixty-two  cents.  He 
can  not  be  said  to  have  been  disappointed,  for 
he  had  only  hoped,  not  expected,  to  buy  his 
grammar  for  this  term.  Still,  when  he  went 
to  school  and  heard  Mr.  Lane  say  that  he 
should  review  his  class  in  Latin,  which  would 


LATIN   GRAMMAR.  139 

afford  an  opportunity  for  any  other  boy  who 
wished  to  study  it,  and  was  willing  to  study 
hard,  to  join  it,  he  felt  grieved  and  dispirited, 
and  could  not  forbear  telling  his  mother  about  it. 

"  It  was  a  great  pity,"  so  his  mother  thought 
and  said,  and  she  went  at  once  to  work  to  help 
her  boy,  if  she  could.  Fortunately  she  had  the 
money,  and  brought  it  to  him  ;  but  Willie 
entirely  refused  to  touch  it.  "  I  must  win,  if  I 
would  wear,"  mother,  he  said  ;  and  resolutely 
restraining  his  tears,  returned  to  school.  As  he 
was  taking  his  seat,  school  not  having  yet  com- 
menced, Liua  came  up  to  him,  and  putting  her 
little  hand,  warm  from  a  nice  new  mitten,  into 
his,  said,  "  Willie,  you  looked  as  if  you  were 
not  happy  when  you  went  home  this  noon.  Do 
you  want  to  go  back  into  papa's  mill  to  work  ? 
I  should  not  think  it  was  half  as  nice  as  thia 
school-room,  where  we  all  are." 

"  Did  I  look  unhappy,  Lina  ?  "  said  Willie, 
whispering  very  softly.  "  I  was  a  naughty  boy, 
if  I  did.  I  am  happy.' 


140  WIN  AND   WEAR. 

"  No,  you  are  not !  "  persisted  Liua  ;  "  you 
have  that  very  same  look  now,  as  if  you  would 
like  to  cry,  only  you  are  ashamed  to  because 
you  are  a  boy.  Are  your  fingers  cold,  or  what 
is  it?" 

Willie  smiled.  It  was  the  promptings  of 
nature  which  made  him  whisper,  forgetting 
for  a  moment  his  mother's  injunction  of  silence, 
"It  is  nothing,  only  I  wanted  to  study  Latin, 
and  I  could  not  quite  earn  my  grammar.  So 
you  see  how  silly  I  am — not  nearly  as  brave 
as  you  would  be,  Lina,  if  you  are  a  girl." 

"  Is  that  all  ? "  said  Lina,  opening  her  blue 
eyes  very  wide  with  astonishment ;  "  why,  that 
is  just  nothing  at  all.  Latin  is  hateful ;  Sam 
Johnson  says  it  is." 

"  But  I  don't  think  so,"  said  Willie,  more 
than  half  tempted  to  finish  his  confidence  by 
telling  why  he  was  so  anxious  to  study  it.  "  I 
am  going  to  study  it,  you  see  ;  and  I  only  felt 
badly  to  lose  this  fine  chance." 

"  Why,  you  needn't  lose  it ;  if  you  really 


LATIN  GRAMMAR.  141 

are  so  silly  as  to  want  to  learn  those  queer- 
sounding  words,  I  will  bring  you  a  book  tliig 
very  afternoon.  Father  said  he  meant  to  do 
a  great  deal  for  you,  and  this  is  only  very 
little-— one  book." 

"  Stop,  Lina !  "  said  Willie,  almost  terrified 
at  \tfhat  he  had  done  ;  "  you  must  promise  me 
never  to  say  a  word  to  your  father  or  James 
about  it,  or  I  never  will,  never,  tell  you  any 
thing  again  in  the  world.  Promise  me,  Lina, 
please  do,  quick !  or  I  shall  be  so  sorry  I  said 
a  word." 

"  I  will  not  promise  you,"  said  Lina,  looking 
decided  ;  "  I  will  tell  father,  and  you  shall  have 
the  new  book." 

"Then,  Lina,  I  shall  never  love  you  any 
more,"  said  Willie,  sorrowfully. 

"  You  will !  everybody  loves  me.  James  says 
I  plague  him  awfully  sometimes,  but  still  he 
can't  help  loving  me.  And  beside,  I  don't  plague 
you  ;  I  only  get  you  a  nice  new  book." 

"  I  can  not  take  it,  if  you  bring  it ;  because, 


142  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

Lina,  you  see,  I  have  promised  myself  never  to 
wear  what  I  can  not  win," 

"  Well,  you  don't  want  to  wear  a  Latin  gram- 
mar, do  you?"  said  Lina,  very  much  puzzled. 

"  Not  on  my.  head,  but  in  it,  Lina,"  said 
Willie,  laughing.  "  Now,  be  a  good  child,  and 
promise  me." 

"  I  will  not  tell  father,  then,"  said  Lina,  eva- 
sively, "  if  you  are  so  cross  about  it." 

"  Nor  your  mother,  nor  James !  " 

"  Why,  no,  not  if  I  can't ;  but  I  think  it  very 
odd."  Lina  kept  her  word  just  as  far  as  it 
went ;  but  at  recess  she  was  at  Mr.  Lane's  desk, 
and  had  whispered  to  him  the  whole  story. 

Mr.  Lane  looked  very  thoughtful.  Lina  did 
not  like  it ;  she  expected  he  would  take  a  book 
up  at  once,  and  give  it  to  Willie.  She  thought 
him  both  cross  and  selfish,  when  he  simply 
said,  "  I  will  attend  to  this  some  other  time  ;  1 
am  busy  now,  you  see,  Lina.  Run  away,  and 
play  1  " 

Lina  would  not  play.   She  went  to  her  desk, 


LATIN  GRAMMAR.  143 

and  sat  down,  and  pouted  ;  feeling  that  botli 
Mr.  Lane  and  Willie  were  very  foolish  and 
obstinate. 

That  night,  after  school,  Mr.  Lane  contrived 
to  walk  home  with  Willie,  and,  in  the  course 
of  a  pleasant  conversation,  asked  him  if  he 
wished  to  study  Latin.  Willie  confessed  that 
he  did,  very  much.  Mr.  Lane  wisely  forbore 
to  make  any  inquiries  about  his  future  plans, 
but  when  they  parted  said,  "  I  have  a  gram- 
mar most  as  good  as  new  for  anybody,  and 
quite  as  good  as  new  for  you.  for  you  are 
careful  and  tidy  in  the  use  of  your  books. 
Now  you  may  have  it  for  fifty  cents,  and  that 
is  allowing  you  twenty-five  cents — about  a  fair 
discount — for  the  use  I  have  already  had  out 
of  it." 

Bless  you,  Mr.  Lane !  You  may  have 
offered  many  cups  of  cold  water  before  in  your 
life,  but  surely  never  to  such  a  thirsty  child 
as  this.  I  have  written  a  blessing  upon  you  for 
it,  but  you  will  not  value  that  j  you  know  full 


144  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

well  that  there  is  one  registered  for  you  by 
Him  who  promised  it  to  those  who  should 
assist  His  very  least. 

"Mother,"  said  Willie,  rushing  into  the 
house  with  even  more  delight  than  when  he 
had  brought  home  the  new  coat,  "  I  have  it ! 
I  have  it !  Mr.  Lane,  of  his  own  accord,  offered 
me  a  grammar  for  fifty  cents ! " 

*'  And  now  for  the  Latin,  I  suppose,  Willie," 
said  his  mother,  with  her  quick  sympathy. 

"  And  for  college,  theological  seminary,  and 
a  parish!"  added  Willie,  buoyant  with  the 
prospect  of  that  happy  coming  future. 


VII 


UNFORTUNATELY  for  Willie,  the  grain- 
mar  was  not  the  only  book  needed  to  com« 
plete  his  education.  It  was  not  many  weeks, 
after  commencing  Latin,  before  he  found  a 
large  dictionary,  like  what  the  other  boys 
used,  would  be  of  the  greatest  assistance  to 
him.  Mr.  Lane  kindly  lent  him  his,  whenever 
the  lesson  required  it  ;  but  Willie,  having  to 
study  hard  to  keep  up  with  a  class  who  had 
the  advantage  of  many  months'  previous  in- 
struction, thought,  if  he  could  only  have  one 
of  his  own,  to  use  in  these  winter-evening 
hours  which  he  devoted  to  his  Latin,  he  should 
learn  so  much  faster,  and  with  so  much  greater 
ease.  All  his  father's  college  books  had  been 
long  since  sold.  A  dictionary  cost,  oh!  so 
much  money.  Willie  named  the  sum  over 
13  (145)- 


146  WIN   AND   WEAK. 

again  and  again,  as  if  hoping  to  lessen  it,  but 
it  was  of  no  use.  He  could  not  work  at  the 
mill.  The  days  were  so  short  and  dark  that 
it  was  only  by  being  very  industrious  he  could 
accomplish  what  he  did.  After  an  evening  of 
uncommon  vexation  and  trouble  for  want  of 
this  book,  Willie  went  up  to  bed.  He  seated 
himself,  to  read  his  evening  portion  of  his 
Bible,  upon  an  old  red  hair  trunk.  It  had 
always  been  there.  Willie  had  seen  it  ever 
since  he  could  remember.  When  very  little,  he 
had  loved  to  creep  out  of  bed  early  in  the 
morning,  and  put  his  fingers  upon  the  small 
brass-headed  nails  which  attached  the  straight 
brown  leather  to  its  edges.  He  had  never 
thought  of  opening  it ;  indeed,  I  doubt  whether 
he  knew  it  could  be  opened.  It  was  the  only 
seat  in  his  small  room,  and  it  had  never  been 
any  thing  but  a  seat  to  him.  As  he  sat  down 
upon  it  to-night,  tired,  and  a  little  heavy- 
hearted  at  the  constant  surmounting  of  ob- 
Btacles  which  seemed  to  make  so  great  a  part 


THE   OLD   TRUNK.  147 

of  his  life,  his  eye  wandered  from  it  to  hia 
Bible.  He  did  not  think  of  it ;  but  he  saw  it 
constantly.  At  last  he  roused  himself  from 
his  listless  condition,  and,  turning  to  a  Psalm 
which  was  always  full  of  comfort  to  him,  be- 
gan to  read :  "  The  Lord  is  my  Shepherd  ;  I 
shall  not  want."  Willie  stopped  to  think  over 
this  ;  "  I  shall  not  want  1 "  What  a  world  of 
comfort  and  solace  there  was  in  these  words,  to 
that  boy !  It  seemed  to  him  to-night  that  it 
never  had  been  so  full  of  meaning  before. 
"  The  Lord  is  my  Shepherd  ; "  and  this  little 
fainting  lamb  laid  hold  of  the  promise,  and 
praying  earnestly  for  help  and  aid,  he  rose  from 
his  knees  relieved  and  happy.  "  I  wonder,"  he 
said  aloud  to  himself,  "  if  it  would  not  be  right 
to  ask  God  to  help  me  to  get  a  dictionary." 
Willie  had  much  reverence  in  his  nature,  but 
he  was  also  confiding  and  trustful.  The  more 
he  thought  now  of  this,  the  more  sure  lie  felt 
that  it  was  the  object  of  prayer  to  ask  God's 
help  in  whatever  was  right ;  and,  in  a  child's 


148  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

way,  the  object  for  which  he  wished  the  book 
mixed  itself  up  with  the  dictionary.  No  longer 
doubting  its  propriety,  he  knelt  again,  and 
asked  in  simple,  earnest  words  for  it. 

As  he  rose,  his  eye  fell  upon  the  old  trunk 
with  a  peculiar  interest.  He  tried  the  lid  ;  it 
was  locked.  Then  he  remembered  that  his 
mother  had  told  him  it  once  belonged  to  his 
grandfather,  and  now  contained  a  few  of  the 
things  of  his  which  remained. 

He  determined  to  ask  her  to  let  him  examine 
them.  Perhaps  there  were  sermons  there,  and 
he  might  learn  from  them  how  to  write  his 
own.  Perhaps  there  were  books  ;  yes,  yes,  he 
hardly  dared  indulge  the  thought!  but  who 
could  say  that  the  very  dictionary  he  needed 
was  not  hidden  away  there !  He  grew  so  eager 
to  examine  it,  that  he  could  hardly  make  up 
his  mind  to  go  to  sleep  and  wait  quietly  for 
the  morning.  If  he  had  not  noticed  that  his 
mother  was  looking  pale  when  he  came  up  to 
bed,  he  would  certainly  have  dressed  himselfj 


THE   OLD   TEUNK.  14t> 

and,  cold  as  it  was,  made  sure  of  what  was 
there  before  another  hour  nad  passed.  But 
this  could  not  be  done.  He  must  be  patient ; 
and  so  at  last  he  was,  and  fell  asleep. 

The  first  thing  he  saw  next  morning,  when 
he  opened. his  eyes,  was  the  sun  streaming  in 
upon  the  short,  shining  hair  of  the  trunk.  He 
wondered  he  had  never  noticed  how  peculiar 
looking  it  was  before  ;  what  kind  of  an  animal 
it  was  that  oould  have  had  such  a  skin  ;  in 
what  country  it  lived ;  who  killed  it ;  and  a 
variety  of  queries  which  were  entirely  new  to 
him. 

He  dressed  quickly  ;  but,  even  hurried  as  he 
was,  he  did  not  forget  to  pray.  My  young 
readers  must  have  noticed  that  Willie  was  a 
praying  child.  This  was  undoubtedly  the  rea- 
son why  God  blessed  him.  His  mother  had 
almost  forgotten  that  the  trunk  could  unlock. 
It  had  not  been  opened  for  years.  She  remem- 
bered to  have  put  away  in  it  a  few  old  books, 
and  many  papers,  which  her  father  had  once 
13* 


150  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

considered  valuable.  But  they  were  of  no  use 
to  her,  except  as  relics  ;  and  as  such  she  treas- 
ured them.  She  found  the  key  without  diffi- 
culty— her  things  were  always  in  their  place — 
and  went  up  with  Willie,  thinking  the  lock 
would  probably  be  rustv,  it  was  so  long  since 
it  had  been  turned.  It  made  a  thrill  of  early 
associations  pass  over  her,  as  she  put  in  the 
key.  Unnoticed  as  it  had  been  for  years,  it 
seemed  suddenly  to  have  acquired  a  power 
and  life  of  its  own.  It  brought  before  her 
quickly  the  neat,  quiet  study,  where,  for  years 
and  years,  it  had  always  occupied  one  corner  ; 
and  of  the  father,  whose  grey  hairs  had  been 
brought  so  soon  to  the  grave,  when  he  knew 
that  the  blight  had  fallen  over  her  life. 

Thoughts  are  busy  things.  Mrs.  Sumner, 
while  that  key  was  turning,  found  her  past 
life  all  unlocked  ;  and  as  she  raised  the  cover, 
it  was  almost  like  drawing  back  a  curtain 
which  was  veiling  the  past.  Every  thing  re- 
mained as  she  had  packed  it  in  that  study,  the 


THE   OLD   TRUNK.  151 

day  after  her  fathers  funeral.  She  had  re- 
moved the  books  which  always  stood  upon  hia 
study  table,  and  then  the  papers  from  his  pri- 
vate drawers  and  desks.  They  had  never  been 
examined  since.  Willie  had  told  her  why  he 
wished  to  search  it  now  ;  so,  charging  him  to 
be  as  quick  as  possible,  and  not  remain  long 
in  the  cold,  she  went  down.  Willie  began  to 
lift  the  papers,  carefully  and  reverently. 
There  were  several  bundles  tied  up  with  red 
tape,  like  those  he  used  to  see  in  his  father's 
office.  Then  there  were  large  piles  of  closely- 
written  manuscript ;  sermons,  without  doubt. 
Willie  felt  as  if  a  mine  of  wealth  had  opened 
to  him,  as  he  put  them,  also,  reverently  aside. 
Then  he  began  to  discover  the  edges  of  some 
well-kept  books.  Brown  they  were,  and  very 
smooth,  as  if  they  had  been  used  as  well  as  kept. 
Eagerly  lifting  one,  he  found  it  was  a  volume  of 
Barrow's  Sermons  ;  another  was  an  old  Com- 
mentary on  the  Romans ;  then  came  Baxter's 
Saints'  Rest ;  Doddridge's  Rise  and  Progress ; 


152  WIN  AND   WEAR. 

a  large  Bible,  with  close  references — this  Willie 
took  out ;  he  would  ask  his  mother  to  give  it 
to  him.  One  or  two  Greek  books  ;  a  Latin 
book.  He  was  now  almost  at  the  bottom  of 
the  trunk  ;  there  remained  but  one  layer  more. 
Willie  hardly  dared  to  look.  He  had  so  cer- 
tainly expected  the  dictionary,  that  not  to  find 
it  now  would  really  be  a  disappointment. 
He  began  to  raise  first  one,  then  another,  very 
slowly.  No,  no,  no,  he  said,  hardly  looking, 
excepting  to  see  they  were  not  tJie  book.  At 
last,  the  very  last  book  there  was  seemed  to 
promise,  by  its  size,  that  it  might  be  it.  It 
took  both  of  Willie's  small  hands  to  lift  it. 
He  was  so  eager  to  see  if  it  was  right  that, 
when  he  held  it  before  his  eyes,  the  letters 
grew  dim,  and  wavered  to  and  fro  as.  if  they 
were  playing  catcher  with  him.  He  did  finally 
read  dictionary,  and,  opening  it,  read  a  Latin 
word.  If  Willie  had  found,  as  we  sometimes 
read  in  story-books,  bank  bills  between  every 
leaf,  he  would  not  have  been  half  so  delight- 


"  He  dance!  around  the  room  almost  wild  with  joy. 


Win  and  Wear. 


p.  153. 


THE   OLD   TRUNK.  153 

ed.  He  hugged  and  kissed  it  as  if  it  was  a 
thing  of  life  sent  to  be  loved.  He  danced 
around  the  room,  almost  wild  with  joy  ;  and, 
forgetting  the  things  which  he  had  strewed  all 
over  the  floor,  he  ran  to  carry  his  treasure 
down  to  his  mother.  Hir  father  had  heard 
the  noise  he  had  been  making  in  the  room 
above,  and  chid  him  sharply  for  it  as  he  came 
in.  But  Willie  scarcely  heard  him  ;  he  had  not 
meant  to  do  wrong,  and  here  was  the  book. 
His  mother  smiled,  and  motioned  for  him  to 
be  a  little  more  quiet  in  his  joy.  She  respected 
the  struggle  which  her  husband  was  making 
for  a  new  life,  and  would  not  allow  his  weak- 
ened nerves  to  be  jarred  by  a  single  discordant 
sound  at  home.  She  felt  as  if  she  must  nurse 
him  tenderly,  as  she  would  a  convalescing 
child.  Willie  obeyed  instantly,  slipping  his 
dictionary  under  his  grammar.  He  went  to  his 
morning  task  quietly  and  silently,  and  he  was 
more  than  repaid  by  his  father  putting  hia 
hand  on  his  head,  as  he  went  out  to  school, 


154  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

and  saying,  in  more  fatherly  tones  than  he  had 
heard  for  years,  "  Willie,  you  don't  grow  fast 
enough ;  you  must  take  a  start  now,  my 
boy." 

Now!  Willie  thought  that  word  over  and 
over  as  he  went  to  school.  What  a  beautiful 
time  in  his  short  life  this  now  was  fast  be- 
coming ! 

Mr.  Lane  was  scarcely  less  glad  than  Willie 
to  see  the  book.  He  knew  how  much  he  must 
soon  require  it,  and  could  not  possibly  contrive 
any  means  by  which  he  could  help  him  to  so 
costly  a  work.  "You  will  prize  it  doubly, 
Willie,"  he  said,  "  for  being  your  grandfather  s 
and  I  hope  you  may  live  to  make  as  good  use 
of  it." 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Willie  ;  "  I  hope  so, 
to  o .  If  I  am  half  as  good  a  man  as  grandfather, 
I  shall  be  very  thankful." 

When  Willie  went  to  his  sums,  he  found 
himself  drawing  the  old  red  trunk  upon  his 
slate  instead  of  setting  down  his  figures.  Thia 


THE  OLD   TRUNK.  155 

was  not  right.  Willie  soon  perceived  it,  and 
went  to  work  with  more  diligence,  to  make  up 
the  lost  moment ;  but  such  possession  had  this 
piece  of  furniture — for  it  had  long  been  noth- 
ing else — taken  of  his  mind,  that  as  soon  as 
dinner  was  over  he  hurried  to  his  room,  just 
to  have  one  look  at  these  dear  old  sermons ! 
What  a  small,  neat  hand  they  were  all  written 
in !  It  was  almost  illegible  to  Willie ;  and, 
after  a  half  hour  spent  in  trying  to  decypher 
one,  he  gave  it  up,  for  the  present  at  least. 

There  were  those  bundles  with  the  red 
strings :  he  laid  those  on  the  top,  where  he 
could  easily  catch  them  up  at  any  spare  mo- 
ment,  and  went  again  to  school.  There  was 
now  no  obstacle  in  his  way.  He  had  his  tools, 
but  he  was  yet  to  show  how  much  of  a  work- 
man he  would  prove  himself  in  their  use. 
"Fortune  favors  the  brave"  is  a  very  good 
maxim,  but  it  is  better  to  believe  that  Fortune 
favors  the  industrious  and  earnest.  Or,  there 
is  another  adage,  which  is  truer  and  better 


156  WIN  AND   WEAR. 

still :  "  God  helps  him  who  helps  himself.'1 
God  had  certainly  helped  Willie,  and  he  had 
also  most  patiently  helped  himself,  and  others 
too  ;  for,  as  he  went  to  the  mill  that  morning, 
Mr.  Sumner  thought  often  of  his  small,  pale 
boy.  He  could  not  help  comparing  him  with 
the  many  strong,  robust  boys  whom  he  met 
on  their  way  to  school.  His  conscience  told 
him  that  much  of  the  puny  appearance  of  his 
own  boy  was  owing  to  the  want  of  that  very  care 
which  it  was  his  business  to  provide.  He  could 
not  help  wondering  if  he  had  always  had 
enough  to  eat.  He  had  not  thought  about  this 
before  ;  indeed,  for  the  last  two  years,  he  had 
thought  of  little  but  how  to  provide  himself 
with  the  means  of  indulging  his  vicious  habit. 
From  Willie,  every  member  of  his  neglected 
family  he  saw  in  a  long,  solemn  row,  repeat- 
ing themselves  over  and  over.  Lotty,  with 
her  soundless  words,  spoke  to  him  in  such  be- 
seeching tones — God's  messenger.  Perhaps  he 
made  this  child  deaf  and  dumb  that  the  mes- 


THE  OLD  TRUNK.  157 

sage  she  brought  might  seem  to  all  to  come 
directly  from  Himself. 

A  girl  seems  nearer  a  father's  heart  than  a 
boy  ;  and  this  child,  so  clinging,  so  dependent, 
how  could  he  ever  have  forgotten  her !  Mr. 
Sunmer's  thoughts  were  full  of  remorse.  He 
looked  sober  and  sad  as  he  entered  the  count- 
ing-room, and  Mr.  Ashton  noticed  it  with 
pleasure.  "  If  the,  man  begins  really  to  repent 
what  he  has  done,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  I  shall 
have  much  hope  of  him." 

The  law  business  proceeded  slowly.  Mr. 
Sumner  was  industrious  and  persevering,  but 
not  nearly  as  acute  as  before  he  had  benumbed 
his  faculties  by  the  use  of  intoxicating  drinks. 
Mr.  Ashton  did  all  he  could  to  assist  him,  paid 
him  liberally,  and  promised,  if  he  would  give 
him  an  undisputed  right  to  the  land,  a  hand- 
some bonus.  "  If,  by  any  luck,"  he  said,  "  you 
could  find  that  old  will,  how  invaluable  it 
would  be ! " 

"What    is    known    of    the    parents    01 
14 


158  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

friends  of  this  poor  widow?"  asked  Mr, 
Simmer. 

"  I  know  nothing.  I  am  no  lawyer  ;  and  so 
long  as  she  told  me  decidedly  that  both  her 
brothers  were  dead,  and  the  will  no  longer,  in 
all  probability,  in  existence,  I  gave  myself  no 
further  trouble  in  the  matter.  But,  if  you  think 
it  necessary,  the  first  day  I  can  be  spared  from 
my  business  you  and  I  will  drive  over,  and 
you  may  use  your  lawyer's  wit  in  interrogating 
her  as  closely  as  you  please." 

"  I  really  can  do  very  little,  except  to  clear 
away  some  of  this  superadded  rubbish,  until  I 
see  what  hope  there  is  of  that.  If  the  brothers 
are  dead,  there  is  one  heir,  a  girl,  you  said. 
We  must  hunt  her  up." 

So  it  was  agreed  upon  ;  and  a  month  was 
drawing  to  its  close — the  first  sober  month 
Mr.  Sumner  had  known  for  years.  To  whom, 
under  God's  blessing — to  Mr.  Ash  ton,  or  to  his 
own  son, Willie — did  he  owe  this  ?  Our  young 
readers  must  decide  for  themselves.  Neither 


THE   OLD   TRUNK.  159 

Mr.  Ashton  or  Willie  asked  the  question.  But, 
eagerly  as  they  watched  him,  they  felt  that 
God  was  helping  them,  and  that,  perhaps,  in 
His  infinite  goodness,  He  might  have  in  store 
days  of  quiet  home-life  for  the  family  of  the 
poor,  despised  drunkard. 


VIIL 


fpHE  cold,  short  days  of  winter  were  at  last 
A  over,  and  in  this  coming  in  of  the  good 
time  no  one  rejoiced  more  heartily  than  the 
school-children  in  Belden's  Falls.  Now  there 
would  be  a  long  vacation,  and  the  spring  va- 
cation was  but  another  name  for  such  lovely 
walks,  such  long  and  frequent  sitting  by  the 
little  brQok-side,  which,  freed  from  the  bonds 
which  had  kept  them  so  closely  all  the  live- 
long winter,  seemed  to  these  children  like  sym- 
pathizing schoolmates  just  commencing  their 
vacation  also.  Every  new  spring  came  the 
new  young  flowers.  How  easy  it  was  to  find 
them  by  the  stile,  in  the  very  middle  of  the 
lane,  back  of  Blunt's  woods,  close  by  the  old 
cottage,  where  Black  Rose  had  lived  always, 
the  children  thought  !  There  were  those  blue- 

(160) 


THE  BEAN-FIELD.  161 

eyed  violets,  so  large,  so  sweet,  with  one  tiny 
drop  of  dew  resting  early  in  the  morning  upon 
a  falling  leaf.  What  great  hands  full  they 
gathered  there  daily,  until  all  the  little  folks 
seemed  to  be  turning  into  violets  themselves ! 
The  spring-beauty — there  it  was,  clinging  to 
those*  grey  rocks,  and  tempting  the  hands  that 
plucked  it  to  build  houses,  and  castles,  and 
forts,  and  even  whole  cities  around  on  those 
shelves  and  wide  crevices.  They  could  wade 
into  the  wet  meadow  for  the  yellow  cowslip. 
What  did  they  care  for  wet  feet?  This  was 
the  greatest  sport  of  all,  and  the  deeper  in  the 
merrier  the  shout.  Yes,  this  vacation  was  the 
happiest  time  of  all  the  happy  year ;  for  every 
thing  was  budding,  fresh  and  green.  It  was 
nature's  childhood,  and  was  only  a  part  of  the 
great  child-world.  James  and  Willie  had 
studied  hard.  They  were  glad  of  rest  and 
change.  James  was  delighted  to  have  a  time 
for  free  sport,  and  Willie  a  time  for  mill- work. 
How  much  he  would  eaiz  !  He  even  hoped  to 
14* 


162  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

put  up  a  little  for  that  coming  college-life.  To 
his  great  disappointment,  when  he  asked  leave 
of  Mr.  Ashton,  he  said,  very  decidedly,  No  ; 
that  he  needed  change,  play,  recreation,  and 
that  he  should  feel  as  if  he  were  doing  a 
wrong  thing  to  allow  him  to  shut  himself  up 
in  the  close  air  of  a  factory,  when  he  needed 
the  sun  and  the  air  as  much  as  the  flowers 
did.  Willie  tried  to  bear  the  disappointment 
like  a  man  ;  but,  after  all,  he  was  only  a  boy 
of  eleven,  and  he  had  to  wipe  the  tears  away 
many  times,  in  order  to  see  clearly  the  path 
as  he  went  slowly  home.  To  his  surprise  he 
found  James  there  waiting  for  him.  James' 
face  looked  so  happy,  that  poor  Willie,  as  he 
looked  at  it,  could  not  help  wondering  why 
God  had  made  him  so  well  and  happy  and 
rich,  while  He  had  not  only  taken  away  the 
vigor  of  his  boyhood,  but  had  given  him  pov- 
erty and  much  sorrow  to  contend  with.  But 
these  feelings  had  hardly  put  themselves  into 
words  in  Willie's  m:^d  before  he  became  con- 


THE   BEAN-FIELD.  163 

scions  how  wrong  they  were  ;  and  they  were 
hardly  conceived  before  they  were  followed  by 
an  earnest  prayer  for  forgiveness,  and  for  help 
to  be  saved  from  being  an  envious  child. 

James  was  too  full  of  his  own  happiness  to 
notice  the  changes  in  Willie's  face,  which  in- 
dicated his  changes  of  feeling,  so  he  said, 
abruptly  : 

"I  meant  to  have  got  here  earlier,  Willie,  to 
save  you  going  over  to  our  house,  for  I  knew 
the  very  first  idea  that  would  come  into  your 
head  would  be  that  of  going  to  work ;  and 
father  said  you  mustn't  have  any  more,  in  doors, 
when  the  birds  were  calling  you  so  loud  to 
come  out.  But  he  says,"  and  here  James'  face 
lit  up  with  such  a  happy  smile,  "  that  he  will 
give  you  and  me  the  rent  of  that  acre  of  bean- 
lot,  over  on  the  side  of  Chipman's  Hill,  and 
will  pay  us  two  dollars  a  bushel  for  every 
bushel  of  beans  we  raise  upon  it.  What  do 
you  think  of  that,  man  ;  is  not  it  a  lot  better 
than  making  paper  bed-quilts  ?  Why,  we  shall 


164  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

be  farmers,  sons  of  the  soil,  men  full  grown, 
ready  to  assume  the  responsibilities  of  life,  and 
to  act  our  part,  bear  our  burdens  manfully, 
and  all  the  rest  that  Mr.  Lane  tells  us  about. 
[  made  father  promise  me  he  wouldn't  tell 
you  a  word  about  it,  if  he  should  see  you  first ; 
and  I  know,  by  your  long  face,  that  he  hag 
kept  his  word.  Come,  sir ;  Jonas  has  gone 
round  to  the  field,  and  there  is  no  time  to  lose. 
He  is  to  give  us  our  first  lesson  this  morning. 
It  is  all  ploughed,  and  ready." 

Now  which  boy  looked  the  happiest,  Willie, 
or  James  ?  As  we  can  not  see  with  our  bodily 
eyes,  how  shall  we  decide  ?  Perhaps,  after  all, 
there  was  most  of  quiet  joy  in  Mrs.  Sumner's 
eye  ;  for  she  more  fully  realized  how  much  it 
would  be  to  her  pale,  drooping  child.  Per- 
haps it  might  lighten  the  shadow  which  fell 
over  him  that  night,  when  she  stood  looking 
at  him  in  the  soft  moonlight.  Willie  was 
even  now  tired.  The  walk  to  Mr.  Ash  ton's,  and 
the  disappointment,  had  been  all  that  he  could 


THE   BEAN-FIELD.  165 

bear.  But  he  was  too  impatient  to  rest,  though 
James,  with  his  brotherly  care  of  the  frail  child, 
cheated  him  into  many  long  rests  on  the  sunny 
side  of  some  old  log,  as  they  went  to  their  new 
work,  much  preferring  that  Jonas,  never  too 
pleasant,  should  scold  him  heartily  for  being 
so  slow  than  that  he  should  hear  that  quick, 
short  breathing  of  Willie's.,  which  he  heard  his 
mother  so  often  regret.  When  they  reached 
the  field,  Jonas  was  so  struck  by  Willie's  worn, 
tired  face  that  he  forgot  the  reproof,  which 
he  had  hardly  been  able  to  reserve  until  James 
came,  and  only  said, 

"  Well,  now,  sartin,  that  boy  looks  like  a 
turnip  just  dug  ;  he's  as  white  as  pop-corn. 
Your  father  don't  expect  to  get  many  beans 
out  of  him,  I  hope?" 

"  We  will  see,"  said  James,  laughing  cheer- 
fully. "  Willie  left  some  of  his  red  cheeks  be- 
tween the  leaves  of  his  old  Latin  Dictionary  ; 
but  we  will  dig  them  up,  you  see  if  we  don't." 

"  Yes,  yes    I  dare  say,"  said  Jonas,  more 


166  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

gently ;  "  nothing  so  good  for  little  folks  as  air 
and  work.  I  don't  think  much  of  your  book- 
laming.  My  boys  are  as  brown  as  horse-chest- 
nuts, and  stout  as  young  oxen.  They  are  a 
great  team,  Ned  and  Joe,  I  tell  you." 

"  I  know  that,"  said  James  ;  "  but  so  are 
Willie  and  I.  I'll  bet  you  a  fourpence  that 
we  will  raise  more  beans  on  the  same  quantity 
of  land  than  your  boys,  after  all  1 " 

"  Whew !"  said  Jonas,  looking  disparagingly 
at  their  delicate  hands,  and  whistling  contempt- 
uously. "  Brag  is  a  good  dog,  but  Hold-fast 
is  better." 

"  Well,  Jonas,  for  a  punishment,  you  shall 
measure  our  beans,  when  we  have  gathered 
them,"  said  James,  laughing. 

"  I'll  agree  to  it,  and  won't  charge  your 
father  nothing  for  the  time  it  takes,"  said 
Jonas,  with  a  sly  wink.  And  to  work  the 
three  went. 

Willie  was  tired.  His  hoe  was  heavy,  he 
could  hardly  move  it ;  he  was  both  slow  and 


THE   BEAN-FIELD.  167 

awkward.  After  all  it  was  not  as  good  as  the 
paper  patchwork  ;  for  that  he  could  do,  and 
this  he  could  not. 

"I  am  more  stupid  than  Jerry,"  he  said, 
apologetically,  to  James. 

"  Then  you  are  a  very  hopeful  case,"  said 
James  ;  "  for  I  heard  father  telling  mother,  this 
very  morning,  that  Pat  says  Jerry  does  half 
as  much  work  as  a  man,  and  that  he  quite  de- 
pends upon  him.  So  much  for  stupid  Jerry !  I 
could  hardly  believe  it." 

Willie  was  glad  when  the  evening  came,  and 
still  more  glad  when  Jonas  said  he  could  do 
no  more  until  to-morrow.  Everybody  was 
thoughtful  for  Willie.  It  is  a  beautiful  way 
that  God  has  of  taking  care  of  those  who 
quietly  and  uncomplainingly  trust  Him — to  put 
it  into  the  hearts  of  so  many  to  do  little  kind 
things ;  to  think  for,  and  be  tender  of  those  who 
really  need  it.  Who  ever  before  thought  of 
rough  Jonas  being  careful  of  any  body !  and 
yet  now  he  really  planned  to  do  something  else, 


168  WIN   AND  WEAR. 

to  ease  Willie  gradually  into  hard  wort.  And 
all  that  bright,  warm  spring  afternoon  he 
quieted  down  his  discontent  at  the  fact  that  the 
ground  was  not  opening  to  mellow,  by  the 
thought  that  that  weak  child  was  at  play  some- 
where ;  and  so  Willie  was.  He  had  taken  Lotty 
and  Warren,  and  they  had  gone  for  the  violets  ; 
and  by  some  freemasonry,  known  only  to  young 
hearts,  James  and  Lina  had  come  to  the  same 
spot  for  the  same  purpose.  And  so*  beautiful 
and  plenty  were  the  flowers,  that  the  girls  had 
woven  small  wreaths,  and  put  them  upon  their 
heads,  Lotty  making  the  woods  ring  with  her 
discordant  but  happy  laugh,  and  Lina  with 
her  lovely  face  so  bright — brighter  and  sweeter 
than  were  those  sweet  blue  flowers.  Warren's 
chubby  hands  peeped  out  from  under  their  load 
of  the  greenest  leaves,  almost  like  lilies  ;  so,  at 
least,  Lina  said,  as  she  took  his  pretty  oiferings, 
very  much  with  the  air  of  a  flower  queen.  These 
were  precious  days  to  Lotty,  for  a  new  life 
opened  with  them  to  her.  When  Willie  was 


THE   BEAN-FIELD.  169 

at  school,  she  -was  confined  closely  at  home. 
Her  mother  hardly  dared  permit  her  to  go  to 
the  old  tree,  that  grew  so  near  the  house  ;  for 
the  unfenced  yard  offered  her  no  protection, 
and  she  was  very  tender  of  this  helpless  one. 
But  when  Willie  was  at  home,  he  was  never 
tired  of  walking  with  her — of  taking  her  to 
the  prettiest  places  ;  and,  though  Lotty  could 
not  hear  the  birds  sing,  they  were  to  her  what 
the  white  clouds  in  the  blue  sky  are  to  us,  full 
of  the  silent  beauty  of  motion ,  between  heaven 
and  earth,  but  much  nearer  that  pure  home 
than  here  !  No  one  can  tell  the  silent  beauty 
which  God  has  spread  all  over  this  world,  but 
those  to  whom  only  this  is  revealed.  And  cer- 
tainly, as  this  group  of  children  sat  round  upon 
the  springing  grass,  Lotty's  face  told  of  as 
much  deep  enjoyment  as  the  others  gave  ex- 
presssion  to  in  words. 

The  long  shadows  from  those  brawny  pine 
trees  fell  over  their  play-ground  before  the 
party  broke  up.  Willie  had  a  shade  more  of 


170  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

life  upon  his  young  face,  as  he  went  home. 
His  mother  saw  it,  and  returned  thanks. 

The  next  morning  the  boys  went  early  to  their 
task.  James  was  fond  of  every  species  of  practi- 
cal gardening.  '•  He  no  longer,"  he  said,  "felt 
like  an  old  horse  that  was  sawing  wood  in  a 
machine,  as  he  had  in  the  mill.  There  was  some- 
thing right  manly  in  his  work.  He  could  hear 
and  see  ;  he  believed  he  loved  every  clod  of 
that  brown  earth  ;  and  when  the  beans  fairly 
came,  only  think  of  seeing  something  grow 
that  you  had  planted  yourself." 

Mr.  Ashton  had  wisely  regulated  the  work 
hours.  They  were  from  eight  until  ten  in  the 
morning,  and  from  three  to  five  in  the  after- 
noon. 

If  he  had  not,  the  boys  would  have  come 
home  to  dinner,  and  hurried  back,  every  day. 
But  Mr.  Ashton  was  positive  ;  and,  as  he  said 
he  had  taken  Willie  into  his  employ,  he  had 
some  errand  for  him  to  run,  some  ride 
for  him  to  take,  or  the  little  girls  wanted 


THE   BEAN-FIELD.  171 

to  go  again  and  again  after  those  never- 
fading  violets. 

Vacation  was  passing  all  too  quickly.  What 
would  become  of  the  beans,  when  they  must 
go  to  school?  They  made  many  plans  for 
getting  up  early,  for  working  through  the  long, 
soft  summer  twilight.  We  shall  see  how  well 
they  kept  them. 

The  last  day  of  vacation  they  were  allowed, 
as  a  special  favor,  a  few  hours  more  of  work. 
The  heads  of  the  green  leaves  of  those  last 
planted  were  just  peeping  up  above  the  ground, 
and  now  was  the  time,  Jonas  said,  to  make  sure 
of  the  weeds.  "  For  every  one  you  destroy 
now,  you  kill  a  hundred  by  and  by,"  he  said  ; 
"  so  work  away  like  troopers."  Willie  could 
work  "  like  a  trooper."  James  was  not  slow 
in  finding  it  out,  and  his  respect  and  affection 
for  the  boy  grew  in  proportion. 

"  Father  says,"  said  James,  while  Willie  and 
he  were  weeding  side  by  side,  "  that  this  weed- 
ing may  be  an  excellent  moral  lesson  to  us,  if 


172  WIN   AND    WEAR. 

we  will  take  it.  He  says,  we  want  to  pull  up 
these  things  while  they  are  young  and  tender, 
before  they  have  spread,  or  taken  deep  root. 
And  so  with  our  little  faults.  If  we  pull  them 
all  up,  root  and  branch,  now,  we  shall  have  no 
more  trouble  with  them  ;  but  if  we  let  them 
grow,  they  will  choke  us  all  up,  and  we  shall 
not  produce  a  good  deed,  any  more  than  we 
can  raise  good  beans  if  they  are  covered  up 
with  dark  weeds." 

"  I  was  thinking  so  myself,"  answered  Wil- 
lie, "  as  I  sat  here  before  you  came  ;  and  I 
wondered  if  God  would  not  help  me  pull  up 
all  my  faults,  as  we  pulled  up  these  weeds. 
Now,  you  see,  James,  these  weeds,  could  not 
pull  themselves  up,  neither  could  the  beans 
push  them  off ;  we  come  and  do  it.  So  one  of 
my  greatest  faults  is  want  of  power  to  break  my- 
self of  a  faul  t,  or  bad  habit,  which  I  take  to  be 
one  and  the  same  thing  ;  and,  unless  God  comes 
and  helps  me,  why  they  will  grow,  and  grow, 
and  thero  is  the  end  of  my  being  a  minister." 


THE  BEAN-FIELD.  173 

"You  arc  always  talking  about  being  a 
minister,  Willie.  What  is  your  fancy  that 
way  ?  I  can't  find  out." 

"  Why,  simply  to  do  good,  James." 

"  Do  good !  I  never  think  of  any  such 
thing  ;  I  mean,  any  more  than  some  little  kind 
act,  which  I  can't  help  doing.  But  E  never  plan 
about  being  a  minister  ;  I  want  to  be  something 
great? 

"  And  I  something  good,;)  said  Willie, 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say  you  had  rather  be 
a  good  man  than  a  great  one  ?  Gome,  now, 
Willie,  own  up,  honestly ! " 

"Well,  honestly,  then,"  said  Willie,  "I  do 
not  see  how  being  good  can  keep  me  from 
being  great ;  but  if  I  must  be  of  necessity  only 
one,  I  had  rather  be  a  first*rate  minister,  and 
win  souls,  as  Mr.  Ross  says,  to  Christ,  than  to 
be  a  king,  and  wear  a  crown." 

"  I  should  not  like  to  be  a  king,  I  think," 
said  James,  half  laughing  ;  "  but  the  president 
of  the  United  States  of  America  does'nt  sound 
15* 


174  WIN  AND   WEAR. 

so  unpleasantly  to  me !  I  wonder,  after  all, 
Willie,  what  you  and  I  shall  make." 

"  This  reminds  me,"  said  Willie,  "  of  a  talk 
I  once  had  with  Jerry.  One  day,  when  we 
were  working  all  alone  at  the  mill,  I  asked 
him  what  he  meant  to  make,  when  he  was  a 
man ;  and,  after  waiting  a  long  time,  he  said, 
" '  Well,  now,  I  am  a  thinking  I'll  make  a  sled.' " 
I  tried  to  explain  to  him  that  it  was  what  he 
was  to  be,  and  at  last  came  to  the  conclusion 
that,  mayhap,  if  he  was  very  smart,  Patrick 
would  let  him  tend  a  loom." 

Both  the  boys  laughed.  James  thought 
weeding  beans  a  great  deal  better  fun,  and  so 
did.  Willie.  Indeed,  if  a  profession  had  not 
seemed  to  them  a  necessity  for  boys  who 
studied  Latin,  perhaps  the  clear,  buoyant  air, 
the  gay,  glad  freedom  of  an  out-of-doors  life 
might  have  won  both  their  hearts  to  the  farm- 
er's side.  As  it  was,  farming  was  only  a  means 
to  an  end.  James  wanted  his  money,  in  order 
to  feel  that  he  had  earned  something  o'f  his 


THE   BEAN-FIELD.  175 

own  ;  and  Willie — we  all  know  what  Willie 
wanted  his  for.  Mr.  Ashton  came  out  to-day 
to  make  them  a  call.  He  had  watched  the  bean- 
field  more  as  an  indication  of  the  boys'  charac- 
ters than  for  any  great  desire  to  have  a  large 
crop  of  beans.  He  had  been  at  some  pains  to 
devise  this  healthy  way  of  helping  Willie,  and 
he  offered  a  price  which,  even  with  a  fair  re- 
turn for  their  trouble,  would  pay  them  hand- 
somely. But  what  gave  him  most  pleasure 
was  the  industry  and  perseverance  they  had 
both  shown.  Being  strictly  in  accordance  with 
his  taste,  James  had  never  wearied,  never  re- 
quired, as  he  had  at  the  mill,  to  be  forced  to  go  ; 
he  only  complained  that  he  was  allowed  to 
work  so  little.  Even  Jonas  confessed  that  the 
boys  had  done  right  smart,  his  own  lads 
couldn't  have  beaten  them.  And  when  James 
asked  him  if  he  would  still  promise  to  measure 
their  beans  for  nothing,  he  laughed,  and  said 
he  was  perfectly  willing  to  leave  it  to  Mr. 
Ashton  ;  he  was  a  mighty  just  man.  And  so 


176  WIN  AND   WEAR. 

closed  the  last  day  of  this  happy,  well-spent 
vacation.  When  Willie  went  into  school  the 
first  morning,  Mr.  Lane's  salutation  was, 

"  Ah !  Willie,  vacation  has  done  you  a  world 
of  good.  Why,  you  look  like  a  different  boy. 
I  shall  let  you  dig  away  at  your  books  with 
much  more  pleasure  this  term." 

"I  am  as  strong,  almost,  as  James,"  said 
Willie,  "  and  have  grown  half  an  inch.  Mother 
says  she  thinks,  if  I  would  be  a  farmer's  boy, 
I  might  make  a  healthy  man  ;  but  I  must  be  a 
minister,  sir,  I  am  sure  I  mast." 


X. 

Hfu  gisappititnunt, 

T1HE  next  event  of  much  importance  to  the 
progress  of  our  story  was  the  long  pro- 
jected visit  of  Mr.  Ashton  and  Mr.  Sumner  to 
the  widow,  in  order  to  investigate  the  unset- 
tled claims  upon  the  laud  Mr.  Ashton  was  so 
anxious  to  purchase.  Mr.  Sumner  had  not 
been  away  from  home  for  several  years,  and 
the  occasion  was  one  of  much  solicitude  and 
bustle  to  him  and  his  family.  He  had,  with 
his  wife's  careful  planning  been  able  to  buy 
the  new  coat  of  which  he  stood  so  much  in 
need.  And  as  his  habits  for  several  months 
had  been  perfectly  sober,  he  really  began  to 
assume  again  the  appearance  and  the  manner 
of  a  gentleman.  What  was  better  still,  he  be- 
gan to  have  hope  in  his  heart — hope  that  he 
should  be  able  finally,  with  Mr.  Ashton's  help, 
to  be  a  gentleman.  Not  an  idle,  lazy  one,  for 


178  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

no  true  gentleman  can  be  that ;  but  an  active, 
enterprising,  useful,  valued  member  of  the  com- 
munity in  which  he  lived.  So  Mrs.  Sumner 
hoped  ;  but  her  trust  was  first  in  God,  and 
afterward  in  Mr.  Ashton. 

There  was  a  feeling  of  the  old  pride  in  her 
heart,  which  she  thought  shame  and  sorrow 
had  long  since  eradicated.  She  was  surprised 
to  find  it  still  there.  When  all  dressed  and 
ready,  her  husband  stood  waiting  for  the  car- 
riage which  was  to  take  him  away.  Even 
Lotty  seemed  conscious  that  there  was  quite 
an  epoch  opening  before  the  family  ;  for,  climb- 
ing up  in  her  father's  lap,  she  passed  her  hand 
approvingly  over  the  shining  new  coat,  and 
uttered  a  succession  of  her  wild,  happy  laughs, 
Her  look  of  grief  and  surprise,  as  she  saw  her 
father  go  away,  was  the  last  thing  he  saw.  As 
he  looked  back  from  the  wagon  to  say  good-bye 
once  more,  it  was  a  great  comfort  to  him — 
poor,  fallen  man  that  he  was — to  find  that  this 
stricken,  abused  child  loved  him  still. 


THE   DISAPPOINTMENT.  179 

Sixty  miles  is  not  a  great  distance  by  cars; 
but  Mr.  Ashton  wished  to  make  it  as  much  of 
an  excursion  as  possible  to  his  companion. 
So  they  drove  leisurely  on,  and  did  not  reach 
their  stopping-place  until  quite  late  on  the 
following  night.  The  next  morning  their  first 
business  was  to  hunt  up  the  old  lady,  whom 
they  found  living  alone  in  a  small  house  on  the 
outskirts  of  the  town.  She  evidently  was  not 
much  used  to  company,  or  very  desirous  of  it ; 
for  the  reception  she  gave  them  had  in  it  such 
a  mixture  of  bashfulness  and  coldness,  that  she 
might  easily  have  rid  herself  of  less  determined 
guests.  But,  taking  their  seats  entirely  unin- 
vited, Mr.  Ashton  entered  at  once  upon  the 
object  of  their  visit. 

"  So,  so,"  said  the  good  lady,  looking  at  them 
most  attentively  after  she  had  heard  their  story  ; 
"  you  think  you'll  come  here  and  get  all  you 
can  out  of  me,  and  then  go  away  and  get  the 
land  for  sartin,  do  you?  I  tell  you  what,  I 
haven't  lived  so  long  and  suffered  all  this  for 


180  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

nothing  ;  and  I  will  inform  you,  to  start  with, 
that  I  haven't  a  word  to  say  about  the  matter, 
and  that  if  you  sit  there  twenty  years,  you 
may  just  do  it.  You  will  be  none  the  wiser 
for  it." 

It  was  in  vain  that  Mr.  Ashton  informed 
her  who  he  was,  and  that  his  intention  was  to 
see  her  claims  made  good,  not  broken.  It  was 
wasting  words  ;  for,  after  finishing  her  first 
speech,  she  quietly  had  taken  her  knitting  and 
seated  herself,  and  not  one  syllable  could  they 
draw  from  her.  She  even  refused  to  tell  them 
the  name  of  the  minister  of  the  parish,  and  they 
were  obliged  to  take  their  leave  and  hunt  him 
up  elsewhere. 

Mr.  Ashton  was  exceedingly  amused  by  the 
whole  occurrence,  but  Mr.  Sumner  was  suspi- 
cious that  his  own  personal  appearance  had 
much  to  do  with  the  old  lady's  belief  in  their 
imposition.  It  conveyed  to  him  a  silent  re- 
proof, which,  after  all,  showed  an  increasing 
tenderness  of  conscience.  The  minister  was 


THE   DISAPPOINTMENT.  181 

out  of  town,  and  would  be  absent  some  weeks. 
What  could  they  do  ?  Whatever  inquiries 
they  made  respecting  the  character  of  the 
widow  only  made  their  case  seem  more  hope- 
less to  them  ;  for  every  one  said  "  she  was 
very  odd,  and  noted  for  keeping  her  own 
counsel."  And  some  of  the  more  knowing 
ones  advised  the  gentlemen  to  return  to  their 
homes  without  any  delay,  for  the  good  woman 
had  never  been  known  to  change  her  mind 
since  she  had  lived  in  town.  Mr.  Ashton, 
however,  persevered  a  few  days  longer,  going 
sometimes  alone,  and  sometimes  sending  Mr, 
Sumner,  but  always  with  the  same  result.  The 
old  lady  took  her  knitting-work,  and,  fastening 
her  eyes  upon  it,  never  by  look  or  word  indi- 
cated her  knowledge  of  any  other  living  being 
beside  herself  being  in  the  room. 

"  If  I  could  only  ascertain  who  her  father 

und  who  her  brothers  were ! "  said  Mr.  Sumner, 

in  despair,  one  morning,  after  spending  two 

hours  in  useless  cross-questioning.     "This  is 

1G 


182  WIN    AND    WEAK. 

the  rarest  law-case  of  which  I  ever  heard. 
Our  trouble  is  generally  to  make  our  clients 
keep  still,  and  here  is  one  who  can  not  by  any 
inducement  be  made  to  open  her  mouth.  The 
woman  is  either  very  wise  or  a  fool." 

At  last,  during  one  morning's  visit,  Mr. 
Ashton,  as  a  means  of  passing  the  time,  took 
up  an  old  Bible,  which  lay  upon  a  small  light 
stand  by  the  fireplace.  When  the  widow  saw 
him  do  this  she  gave  a  significant  groan,  as  if 
she  was  delighted  at  having  driven  him  to  such 
profitable  employment. 

Turning  the  leaves  slowly  over,  he  came  at 
last  to  that  family  record  which  is  so  often 
inserted  between  the  leaves  of  the  Old  and 
New  Testament.  There,  sure  enough,  written 
in  a  distinct,  old-fashioned  hand,  were  the 
names  of  the  whole  family,  from  the  grand- 
mother to  one  only  grandchild.  Her  mar- 
riage, too,  was  recorded. 

"  How  is  this  ?  "  said  Mr.  Ashton,  starting. 
"  Here  is  your  wife's  name,  and  your  own  : — 


THE   DISAPPOINTMENT.  183 

'  Mary  Loring,  married  to  William  Sumner, 
August  8th,  1830.'  '  Mary  Loring,  daughter  of 
Warren  and  Charlotte  Loring,  born  September 
4th,  1810.  Warren  Loring—' " 

"  Stop,  stop,"  said  Mr.  Sumner,  breathlessly. 
"  My  wife's  father  was  then  one  of  this  lady's 
brothers.  Let  us  look  at  it  carefully.  Here, 
begin  with  the  grandmother." 

It  is  almost  impossible  to  tell  what  effect 
this  disclosure  had  upon  the  widow.  Turning 
pale  and  red  by  turns,  she  slowly  rose  from 
her  chair,  and,  laying  her  hand  upon  Mr.  Sum- 
ner's  shoulder,  said, 

"  You  are  then  William  Sumner.  God  bless 
or  curse  you,  according  to  the  use  you  shall 
this  day  make  of  the  knowledge  you  have  ac 
quired." 

"  We  have  been  put  in  possession  of  this  in 
a  most  singular  manner,"  said  Mr,  Ashton. 
"  My  good  lady,  God  has  certainly  overruled 
your  extreme  carefulness  in  a  decided  way. 
It  seerns  to  me  it  would  now  be  in  accordance 


184  WIN   AND    WEAK. 

with  the  plainness  of  His  purpose,  if  yon  should 
give  to  your  nephew  something  more  of  the 
affectionate  reception  due  from  an  aunt." 

"  If  he  is  good  and  worthy  of  it,  God  bless 
him,"  said  the  aunt,  a  little  more  gently.  "But 
what  I  used  to  hear  of  him  was  none  of  the 
best ;  and,  mayhap,  God  intends  to  try  me 
still  more,  by  sending  him  with  his  family  to  be 
a  burden  to  me  all  my  few  remaining  days." 

Mr.  Sunnier  had  been,  years  ago,  a  man  of 
spirit ;  but  there  is  nothing  that  takes  this  out 
of  a  person  like  guilt.  Now  he  stood  abashed 
before  this  new-found  relative.  Not  a  word 
had  he  to  offer  in  reply  to  her  openly  ex- 
pressed reproof.  There  had  been  times,  and 
those  only  a  few  months  ago,  when  his  family 
had  been  needy  enough  to  come  upon  her  for 
support ;  and  how  could  he  repel  the  sugges- 
tion now  ? 

Mr.  Ashton  read  what  was  passing  in  his 
mind,  from  his  downcast  face.  He  really 
pitied  him,  and  hastened  to  say, 


THE   DISAPPOINTMENT.  185 

"  That  he  could  promise  that,  while  he  lived, 
Mr.  Sunnier  would  not  willingly  become  a. 
burden  to  her ;  and,  if  she  once  knew  Mrs. 
Sumner  and  the  children,  he  thought  she 
would  soon  forget  how  lonely  she  had  been 
in  the  world." 

"  Mayhap,"  she  said,  submissively  ;  "  but 
God  had  a  way  of  seeing  different  from  what 
we  mortal  folks  did,  and  if  He  meant  her  to 
live  out  her  days  poor  and  alone,  it  was  His 
will,  and  she  was  content." 

Years  of  living  alone  seemed  to  have  had  a 
benumbing  effect  upon  Mrs.  Harbour's  mind, 
as  well  as  upon  her  heart.  Her  husband  had 
died  many  long,  long  years  ago.  She  was 
childless,  defrauded,  relationless,  so  far  as  she 
knew  ;  and  thus  she  had  eked  out  her  subsist- 
ence from  day  to  day,  by  the  aid  of  her  knit- 
ting-needles and  the  strictest  economy. 

Mrs.  Sumner  had  lost  sight  of  her.  Indeed, 
she  had  been  hardly  in  a  situation  to  look  up 
any  friends  for  years,  and  so  they  seemed  to 
16* 


186  WIN   AND   V7EAR. 

have  naturally  forgotten  each  other's  existence. 
And  now,  after  conversing  with  her  for  some 
hours,  Mr.  Sumner  came  to  the  conclusion  that 
whatever  he  really  found  out  that  was  to  the 
point,  must  come  from  the  remembrance  of  his 
own  wife.  'Mr.  Ash  ton  and  himself,  therefore, 
took  their  leave,  promising  to  keep  Mrs.  Bar- 
bour  informed  of  whatever  should  tend  to  the 
final  settlement  of  her  affairs. 

"  I  do  not  see,  Mr.  Sumner,"  said  Mr.  Ashton, 
as  they  drove  leisurely  home,  "  but  what,  in 
the  end,  this  affair  becomes  yours,  your  wife 
being  heir  to  whatever  Mrs.  Barbour  leaves  ; 
so  you  must  make  the  best  bargain  you  can 
out  of  me." 

"  That  is  rather  a  new  thing  to  ask  a  law- 
yer to  do,"  said  Mr.  Sumner,  smiling.  "  He  is 
generally  expected  to  make  the  best  for  you." 

"  In  this  particular  instance,  I  am  willing  to 
waive  that  claim  in  favor  of  my  young  friend 
Willie,"  answered  Mr.  Ashton.  "  Only,  I  must 
confess,  while  I  am  ready  for  all  that  is  fair 


THE   DISAPPOINTMENT.  187 

and  honest,  I  should  like  to  be  sure,  if  I  am 
to  pay  a  very  large  price,  that  it  will  come  to 
your  family  in  the  end,  and  not,  by  a  freak  of 
a  very  freakish  old  lady,  go  to  some  twenty- 
ninth  cousin." 

"  I  think  it  will  be  the  part  of  wisdom  not 
to  expect  too  much,  then  there  will  be  no 
disappointment.  At  any  rate,  I  will  see  to  it 
that  my  professional  services  are  rendered  to 
you  with  as  much  probity  as  if  the  twenty- 
ninth  cousin  were  already  in  possession.  The 
first  thing  now  to  do  is  to  find  that  will.  My 
wife  may  have  it  among  some  of  her  father's 
old  papers.  She  is  so  orderly,  we  shall  soon 
know  whether  it  is  in  her  keeping  or  not." 

That  was  a  very  pleasant  ride  home.  Mr. 
Ashton,  always  hopeful,  felt  quite  sure  that  the 
land  he  so  much  desired  would  soon  be  hon- 
estly his,  and  that  by  becoming  its  purchaser, 
he  should  benefit  the  family  in  whom  he  was 
so  much  interested.  And  Mr.  Suniner,  in  spite 
of  his  protestation  to  the  contrary,  and  his 


188  WIN   AND   WEAE. 

sincere  desire  to  do  his  duty,  simply  and  only, 
had  some  very  cheering  thoughts  of  his  family 
never,  never — let  him  err  however  much  he 
might — suffering  for  the  common  necessaries  of 
life  again. 

It  had  been  a  happy  morning  when  he  left 
home.  It  was  a  happy  meeting  when,  with  so 
much  of  the  old  smile  upon  his  face,  he  once 
more  took  his  little  deaf  and  dumb  child  up 
in  his  arms  and  gently  covered  her  tiny  hand 
with  his,  as  she  still  smoothed  the  new  coat,  with 
the  half  consciousness  that  it  was,  even  more 
than  when  she  saw  it  last,  the  harbinger  of 
good. 

Mrs.  Sumner  was  very  much  surprised  by  the 
intelligence  which  her  husband  communicated 
as  soon  as  they  were  alone  together.  She  had 
but  seldom  seen  her  aunt,  Mrs.  Barbour,  and 
what  few  recollections  she  had  of  her  were 
not  much  in  her  favor.  Her  brother,  Mrs. 
Snmncr?s  father,  married  a  lady  against  whom 
Mrs.  Barbour  conceived  a  violent  prejudice,  so 


THE   DISAPPOINTMENT.  189 

that  the  families  had,  during  his  wife's  lifetime, 
but  little  intercourse ;  and,  when  lei  fc  alone  with 
his  only  child,  Mr.  Loring  had  shown  no  desire 
to  have  her  come  either  under  the  influence 
or  authority  of  her  aunt.  Mrs.  Barbour  had 
been  informed  by  letter  of  her  brother's  death, 
soon  after  its  occurrence,  and  since  then  no 
communication  had  taken  place  between  the 
families.  Mrs.  Sumner  had  never  heard  her 
father  speak  of  any  will  belonging  to  his 
father,  or,  indeed,  of  any  property  which  had 
been  left  to  any  of  the  children  ;  but  yet,  it 
was  possible  such  an  instrument  did  still  exist, 
and  was  safely  laid  away  among  her  father's 
papers  in  the  old  hair-trunk.  To-morrow  they 
would  look  over  its  contents  carefully.  It 
was  a  point  which  could  soon  be  settled. 

Willie  was  hardly  awake,  the  next  morning, 
when  his  father  came  in  to  commence  the 
search.  He  was  very  curious  to  know  what 
it  might  all  mean,  but  he  was  not  accustomed 
to  ask  questions  very  freely  of  his  father.  So 


190  WIN    AND    WEAR. 

he  waited  until  he  found  his  mother  alone.  Nor 
was  his  wonder  at  all  abated,  when  she  inform- 
ed him  that  his  father  was  looking  for  his 
great-grandfather's  will,  and  that,  as  the  rest 
was  private  business,  he  must  make  no  further 
inquiries.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Sumner  had  decided, 
the  previous  night,  that  it  would  be  best  to 
keep  Willie  in  ignorance  of  the  whole  affair, 
in  order  not  to  excite  in  him  too  sanguine 
hopes  with  regard  to  the  future.  Mr.  Sum- 
ner was  not  privy  to  Willie's  plans  of  going 
to  college,  and  becoming  a  minister.  He  had 
not  yet  shown  sufficient  interest  in  his  children 
to  deserve  the  confidence. 

Willie  now,  with  the  sensitiveness  peculiar 
to  delicate  children,  kept  away  from  his  room 
while  the  search  was  proceeding  ;  but  he  felt 
that  he  knew  so  much  more  of  the  contents  of 
the  trunk  than  any  one  else,  that  he  might  be 
useful  if  they  would  allow  him  to  be. 

It  must  be  confessed  that  at  school  Willie's 
thoughts  often  wandered  from  his  books  to 


THE   DISAPPOINTMENT.  191 

the  old  trunk.  It  seemed  to  him  to  contain 
so  many  treasures  peculiarly  his  own,  that 
he  almost  felt  as  if  some  sacred  personal  rights 
were  being  invaded,  and  was  not  the  less  trou- 
bled when,  on  making  a  hasty  visit  to  his  room 
on  his  returning  from  school,  he  found  his  father 
still  there,  and  the  papers  scattered  in  sad  con- 
fusion all  over  the  floor. 

"  Here  is  work  for  you,  to-night,  Willie," 
said  his  father.  "  When  you  come  from  school, 
you  may  gather  these  all  up  and  put  them  back, 
just  as  they  were.  You  have  been  here  so  often, 
your  mother  says,  you  know  all  about  it." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Willie,  delighted  at  the  pros- 
pect of  restoring  things  again  to  their  original 
condition.  "  May  I  begin  now  ?  " 

"  No,  not  until  night.  So  far  I  have  had  my 
labor  for  my  pains.  But  here  is  a  little  hope 
left  yet,"  lifting  two  unopened  packages  ;  "  what 
I  want  may  be  here." 

But  no,  the  last  paper  was  unfolded  and  no 
will.  There  were  bills  from  Mr.  Loring's  youth 


192  WIN   AND    WEAR. 

to  his  doat'i,  all  neatly  filed  and  arranged, 
but  nothing  else.  Mr.  Sumner  recommended 
to  his  wife  that  they  should  all  be  put 'into  the 
fire,  when  he  had  concluded  his  search ;  but 
they  were  precious  in  her  sight,  and  were 
remanded  back  to  their  hiding-place.  Willie 
was  busy  until  a  late  hour,  working  with  a 
right  good- will,  but,  notwithstanding,  was  both 
tired  and  sleepy  when  the  whole  was  done, 
and  he  might  go  to  bed. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Sumner  were  both  of  them 
more  disappointed  than  they  had  any  reason 
to  suppose  they  should  be,  when  the  prospect 
of  finding  the  will  became  hopeless.  To  Mr. 
Sumner  it  made  an  end  of  an  important  and 
interesting  law  case  ;  and  to  Mrs.  Sumner  it 
dashed  the  bright  hopes  which,  in  spite  of  her 
better  judgment,  she  was  beginning  to  enter- 
tain, that  the  future  of  her  family  might,  at  no 
very  distant  day,  be  better  provided  for  than 
their  past  had  been.  Nor  was  Mr.  Ashton 
without  his  share  in  the  disappointment. 


THE    DISAPPOINTMENT.  193 

Even  old  Mrs,  Barbour  heard  of  the  failure 
to  discover  the  will  with  more  than  usual 
expressions  of  regret.  "  It  wasn't  so  much 
matter  for  herself,"  she  said,  "  for  the  land  had 
always  been  a  thorn  in  her  flesh — a  matter  of 
discipline, — but,  if  she  once  could  get  hold  of 
it,  for  sure  and  certain,  it  might  do  some  one 
else  good  after  she  was  gone."  Willie,  too,  boy 
he  was,  felt  that  something  had  gone  wrong, 
though,  thanks  to  the  discretion  of  his  parents, 
it  threw  no  shadow  across  that  shining  path 
which  led  him  up,  up  to  that,  happy  minister 
life. 

17 


XI. 

fire  Iiu*ptUfc  iisita. 


MR.  ASHTON  had  felt  much  concern  as  to 
the  effect  which  the  failure  in  this  first 
law  case  for  years  might  have  upon  Mr.  Surnner, 
so  had  his  wife,  and  both  exerted  themselves 
to  their  utmost  to  make  it  appear  a  matter  of 
very  slight  importance.  Mr.  Ashton  found 
occupation  for  him  as  treasurer  of  the  Mills, 
a  post  of  trust  and  responsibility  which  he 
knew  Mr.  Sumner  very  well  capable  of  filling 
if  he  would  remain  sober.  Mrs.  Sumner  spent 
the  money  which  he  earned  in  the  most  advan- 
tageous manner.  Already  there  was  a  greater 
air  of  comfort  about  the  house.  She  had  pur- 
chased a  new  rocking-chair,  which  always 
stood  inviting  Mr.  Sumner  to  rest  when  ho 
came  home  tired  from  his  day's  work.  A  new 
cover  hid  the  painted  table,  and  a  neat  ward 
U94) 


THE   UNEXPECTED   VISITOR.  195 

robe,  into  which  the  "  turn-up  bed  "  was  snugly 
Btowed  away,  gave  quite  a  parlor-like  look  to 
the  small  room.  The  children,  too,  were  better 
dressed,  and  far  better  fed.  Even  Willie  began 
to  lose  the  pointed  look  so  indicative,  in  a  child, 
of  worn  sensibility,  and  to  appear  and  act  like 
other  boys.  In  truth,  everything  had  so  im- 
proved that  life  seemed  a  different  thing  to 
Mr.  Sumner.  He  began  to  feel  as  if  he  was 
earning  a  right  to  be  a  man  once  more  ;  and, 
as  he  became  more  steady  in  business,  he  found 
to  his  surprise  that  he  had  really  more  time 
for  home  cares,  and  that  he  could  easily  do 
many  things  by  which  Willie's  frail  strength 
nad  been  before  exhausted.  The  time  which 
Willie  thus  gained  was  spent  to  the  best  pur- 
pose, for,  instead  of  chopping  wood,  he  could 
run  to  the  bean-field,  and  there  James  and 
himself  always  found  plenty  to  do.  How 
beautifully  —  yes,  really  beautifully  —  those 
young  green  leaves  looked  to  them,  as  they  first 
unfolded  1  How  they  watched  the  formation  of 


196  WIN  AND    WEAR. 

every  pod  1  And  now,  as  summer  was  wearing 
on,  how  they  would  have  carried  pails  of 
water  from  the  falls  to  water  every  root,  for 
fear  of  that  long  August  drought !  So  passed 
another  term  of  study — the  happiest  Willie  had 
ever  known  during  the  whole  of  his  short, 
troubled  life.  As  the  evenings  began  to 
lengthen,  and  he  could  sit  down  quietly  with 
his  light  to  his  books,  he  seemed  to  himself  to 
be  making  almost  double  progress  in  his 
studies  ;  though  it  is  very  doubtful  whether  he 
was  really  advancing  as  fast  as  he  did  when, 
within  the  long  soft  twilight,  he  could  spend 
those  very  hours  at  work  in  his  bean-field. 

The  fall  vacation  would  be  just  the  season 
to  gather  those  treasures  in.  Willie,  in  some 
of  his  waking  dreams,  spent  the  money^he  should 
thus  earn, — one  day,  in  buying  a  handsome 
new  dress  for  his  mother,  in  which  she  should 
look,  oh!  so  neat  and  pretty!  Then  he  remem- 
bered poor  Lotty,  who  never  had  a  warm  cloak, 
or  bright  hood,  as  other  little  girls  had,  in 


THE   UNEXPECTED   VISITOR.  197 

her  whole  life.  She  might  go  to  church  if  she 
had  them ;  and  how  pleased  and  proud  he 
should  be  to  lead  her  in  !  How  her  soft  eye 
would  brighten  with  astonishment  at  every 
new  thing  she  saw  and  did !  and  how  God  would 
love  to  see  this  poor  stricken  lamb  gathered  in 
with  the  rest  of  His  flock !  Warren,  too,  was 
almost  large  enough  to  go  to  school, — only  he 
would  need  new  stout  boots  if  he  did.  What  a 
nice  thing  it  would  be  to  buy  them,  and  draw 
them  on  to  the  child's  feet  himself !  What  a  man 
it  would  make  of  him  at  once  !  and  how  very 
smart  the  child  himself  would  feel !  As  for  the 
baby,  she  was  still  little,  and  all  her  wants  her 
mother  supplied,  even  before  the  child  wag 
conscious  of  them  herself.  And  then,  crowding 
in  and  pushing  out  everything  else,  came  that 
expensive  college  life,  and  the  mine  of  wealth 
which  it  would  require  before  he  could  earn 
anything  for  himself.  Every  cent  must  be 
saved  for  these  bills,  or  he,  in  the  end,  should 
never  be  able  to  assist  the  family  in  the  sub- 
17* 


198  WIN   AND   WEAK. 

stantial  way  which  was  among  the  pleasant 
things  of  the  future.  Never  was  a  boy  more 
happy  in  possibilities  than  Willie  was  now. 
Everybody  who  saw  the  bean-field  pronounced 
it  doing  finely,  and  so  of  course  it  must  be. 
There  was  to  be  only  a  private  examination  at 
the  close  of  this  term.  In  this  James  and 
Willie  acquitted  themselves  quite  as  well  as  in 
the  public  ones  ;  and  Mr.  Lane  dismissed  them 
with  the  warmest  commendations.  He  told 
them  that  their  good  behavior  had  given  tone 
and  character  to  the  whole  school  ;  that  teach- 
ing was  much  easier  where  the  boys  helped, 
and  they  had  helped  him  in  right  good  earnest ; 
that  he  was  proud  of,  and  well  pleased  with 
them.  This  was  a  pleasant  way  to  begin 
vacation.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Ashton  felt  that 
James's  success  was  owing,  in  a  great  measure, 
to  the  influence  which  Willie  had  over  him. 
He  was  a  steady,  faithful  boy,  and  had,  beside, 
those  noble  and  generous  traits  which  are  tho 
tio  of  brotherhood  between  boys. 


THE   UNEXPECTED   VISITOR.  199 

Mrs.  Ashton  often  spoke  of  him  to  James  as 
a  Christian  child.  James  could  not  exactly 
see  why  Willie  was  any  more  of  a  Christian 
than  he  was  himself.  He  always  tried  to 
obey,  to  speak  the  truth,  never  forget  to  pray 
at  night ;  and  on  Sunday,  refrained  from  play- 
ing, or  reading  such  books  as  he  read  in  week 
days.  Yet,  notwithstanding  all  this,  James 
felt  that  there  was  a  real  difference  between 
them.  And  he  many  times  puzzled  over  it 
without  being  able  to  decide  what  it  was. 

The  motto,  "  Win  and  Wear,"  seemed  to  be 
a  great  favorite  with  Willie.  James  wondered 
if  that  contained  a  secret  meaning  he  had  been 
unable  to  discover.  And  one  day,  after  his 
mother  had  been  unusually  earnest  in  her 
praise  of  Willie,  he  determined,  the  first  time 
he  and  Willie  were  alone  together,  he  would 
have  a  good  long  talk  with  him,  and  find  out  just 
what  it  did  all  mean.  This  opportunity  he 
was  sure  would  occur  while  they  were  harvest- 
ing their  beans. 


200  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

Jonas,  at  last,  after  much  entreaty  from  the 
boys,  appointed  a  day  on  which  to  commence 
this  important  business.  It  was  one  of  those 
soft  September  days,  when  every  thing  looks 
golden.  The  rich  autumn  sun  gilded  the  trees, 
the  shrubs,  the  fading  grass,  and  even  the  very 
stone  walls,  as  they  passed  along.  They  were 
both  in  high  spirits  ;  and  Lotty  and  Lina  were, 
by  special  permission,  to  make  part  of  the 
party,  help  them  pick  the  pods,  and  perhaps 
even  be  allowed  to  turn  out  their  shining 
white  contents  into  that  capacious  measure 
which  Jonas  had  brought  with  them. 

What  a  happy  company  they. were!  One 
would  almost  have  thought  their  laughs  would 
have  rung  down  into  their  parents'  homes — 
perhaps  they  did.  At  any  rate,  the  golden  sun- 
shine was  not  all  on  the  fields.  It  brightened 
up  Mrs.  Sumner's  small  neat  house,  and  glanced 
over  the  gold-sprigged  paper  in  Mrs.  Ashton'a 
parlor,  as  if  it  could  add  its  cheerfulness  even 
to  that  happy  home. 


THE   UNEXPECTED    VISITOE.  201 

Lotty's  tiny  hands  wore  soon  the  busiest  of 
them  all.  She  was  rapidly  becoming  useful  in 
many  little  ways.  Deprived  of  hearing  and 
speech,  her  eyes  did  double  duty.  She  seemed 
to  learn  much  faster  than  other  children  what 
she  could  see  done,  and  to  have  a  natural 
power  of  doing  it  at  once  and  handily.  Lina 
loved  play  too  well  to  work  much  ;  but,  if  she 
did  not  work,  she  was  the  life  of  the  whole. 
She  said  ten  words  for  every  pod  she  picked, 
and  only  laughed  louder  and  longer  than  any 
of  the  others,  when  she  found,  at  the  end  of  the 
first  hour,  that  her  small  basket  was  not  half 
filled.  And  then  she  began  to  grow  tired,  and 
insisted  that  it  was  luncheon  time  ;  and  she  must 
go  and  spread  the  table  under  the  old  oak 
tree,  by  the  stile.  And,  with  the  language  of 
signs,  into  which  she  threw  so  much  of  her 
own  superabounding  life  that  they  seemed  to 
possess  more  power  than  dull  words,  she 
tempted  Lotty  away  with  her.  So  the  children, 
assuming  as  demurely  as  Lina  could  the  re- 


202  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

sponsibilities  of  woman  life,  spread  the  table 
under  the  dancing  shadows  of  the  broad  green 
leaves,  and  put  the  brown  acorns  around  each 
piece  of  bread  and  butter,  "  to  make  a  white 
plate  with  a  brown  border."  Then  calling  the 
boys,  they  forgot  the  beans  in  the  nice  luncheon 
which  Mrs.  Ashton's  kindness  had  provided. 

They  could  hardly  believe  it  was  dinner- 
time, when  Jonas  told  them  he  had  heard  his 
wife's  horn  for  his  dinner.  And  as  Jonas  pos- 
itively refused  to  measure  the  beans  more  than 
once  a  day,  and  that  at  night,  they  very  reluc- 
tantly went  to  their  own  homes.  As  "Willie 
and  Lotty  came  in  sight  of  theirs,  they  were 
astonished  by  seeing  an  old  stage-coach,  which 
rumbled  by  once  a  week,  drive  up  to  their  door 
and  stop.  Lotty  hung  back ;  she  wanted  to 
be  sure  what  had  happened,  before  slie  ventured 
any  further.  But  not  so  Willie ;  he  could  not 
wait  to  reach  home  to  know,  but,  running  up  a 
hill  near  by,  could  see  distinctly  whatever 
should  occur. 


"  I  am  sorry  thit  I  cannot  immediately  recall  your  name. 
Your  face  is  certiinly  familiar  to  me." 


Win  and  Wear. 


p.  203. 


THE   UNEXPECTED   VISITOR.  203 

The  driver  was  a  long  time  at  the  door  of 
the  stage,  evidently  helping  somebody  or 
something,  out  and  at  length  Willie  saw  a  lit- 
tle old  woman,  dressed  in  black,  with  both 
hands  so  full  of  bundles  that  she  had  to  be 
assisted  out  by  her  elbows.  She  tottered  along 
a  few  steps,  then  stopped  to  direct  the  taking 
down  of  a  queer-looking  box.  It  seemed  all 
the  colors  of  the  rainbow  to  Willie,  as  he 
looked  at  it  from  the  distance.  Having  finally 
adjusted  every  thing  to  her  satisfaction,  he  saw 
her  drop  a  little  courtesy,  and  then  turn  to  the 
door.  She  did  not  knock,  Willie  felt  sure,  but 
opening  the  door,  went  directly  in.  Seizing 
Lotty's  hand,  Willie  ran  home  as  quickly  as  he 
could,  and  was  just  in  time  to  hear  the  follow- 
ing dialogue. 

"  I  am  sorry,"  said  his  mother,  apologeti- 
cally, "  that  I  cannot  immediately  recall  your 
name.  Your  face  is  certainly  familiar  to 
me." 

"  That  is  more  than  I  can  say  of  your  face, 


204  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

though  I  know  your  name  well,"  replied  the 
old  lady  ;  "  so,  by  your  leave,  I  will  take  off 
my  bonnet,  and  make  myself  a  little  at 
home." 

Mrs.  Sumner  immediately  assisted  her  to 
take  off  her  bonnet  and  shawl,  and,  seating 
her  in  Mr.  Sumner's  rocking-chair,  began  to 
call  after  Willie  to  bring  more  wood,  in  order 
to  brighten  the  blaze  into  a  cheerful  welcome 
for  this  unexpected,  unknown  guest. 

When  Willie  made  his  appearance,  he  at- 
tracted the  visitor's  eyes  at  once  from  the 
careful  survey  they  were  making  of  the  room 
and  its  appurtenances. 

"  So  this  is  Willie,"  she  said  cheerfully  to 
him,  as  he  came  forward,  holding  out  his  hand. 
"  William  Sumner,  I  suppose ;  I  never  could 
see  the  use  of  nick-names.  If  the  boy  was 
christened  William,  why  not  say  so,  and  be 
done  with  it." 

"  Because  Willie  is  shorter  and  prettier,  wo 
think,"  suggested  Mrs.  Sumner.  "But  I  seo 


THE  UNEXPECTED   VISITOR.  205 

you  do  know  our  names  ;  may  I  request  now 
the  pleasure  of  being  told  yours  ?  " 

"Mighty  polite  you  are,  for  sartin,"  an- 
swered the  old  lady  ;  "  perhaps  it  won't  give 
you  so  much  pleasure,  when  you  really  find  it 
out.  Where  is  your  husband  ?  " 

"  Up  at  the  mill,  in  Mr.  Ashton's  office." 

"  Oh !  oh !  so  he  does  pretend  to  do  some- 
thing sometimes?  I  heard  he  was  a — " 

Mrs.  Sumner  stopped  her  instantly.  "  Who- 
ever you  are,"  she  said  politely,  but  firmly, 
"  you  will  remember  that  he  is  the  father  of 
these  children,  and  my  husband." 

"  A  little  quick-tempered !  Well,  she  a'n't 
none  the  worse  for  that,  that  I  know  of.  The 
Lorings  always  had  a  temper  of  their  own." 

"  May  I  ask  again  who  you  are  ?  "  demand- 
ed Mrs.  Sumner,  more  resolutely. 

"  Yes,  nothing  to  hinder  you  that  I  know 

on,"  perversely  answered  the  visitor ;  "  whether 

I  shall  tell  you,  is  quite  another  thing.     But 

there  is  one  thing  I  will  tell  you  ;  I  am  hungry, 

18 


206  WIN   AND   WEAK. 

and  kind  of  faint,  and  should  like  a  cup  of 
strong  tea,  real  hot.  I  never  drink  any  thing 
lukewarm." 

Mrs.  Sumner  stood  for  a  moment  irresolute ; 
but  Willie  whispered,  "  Mother,  I  think  it  is 
old  Mrs.  Barbour,  that  old  aunt  of  yours  that 
father  went  to  see." 

"  My  little  boy  says,"  said  Mrs.  Sumner,  a 
smile  of  welcome  immediately  lighting  up  her 
whole  face,  "  that  you  are  my  aunt,  Mrs.  Bar- 
bour. If  you  are,  you  must  let  me  kiss  you, 
and  tell  you  how  heartily  glad  I  am  to  see  you 
here." 

The  old  lady  got  up  and  held  out  her  hand 
with  a  look  of  real  happiness  gleaming  over 
her  sallow  and  wrinkled  face.  "I  am,"  she 
said,  "  Aunt  Barbour — old,  cross,  queer  Aunt 
Barbour.  Don't  be  very  glad  to  see  me,  be- 
cause I  didn't  expect  you  to  be,  and  I  am  very 
hard  to  get  along  with.  So  only  treat  me 
kindly,  and  let  me  stay  a  little  while ;  for  I 
have  had  a  great  longing  to  come,  since  your 


THE   UNEXPECTED   VISITOR.  207 

husband  was  at  our  house,  and  sec  with  my 
own  eyes  what  that  great  man  of  yours  calls 
so  perfect,  as  he  does  you  and  yourn.  And 
now  I  will  take  my  tea,  and  then  see  your 
children,  niece  Mary,  if  it  won't  vex  you.'' 

While  Willie  and  his  mother  went  immedi- 
ately at  work  to  provide  the  desired  tea,  Mrs. 
Barbour  leaned  her  head  back  in  her  chair, 
and  closed  her  eyes.  She  seemed  very  tired, 
and  no  doubt  was  ;  but  she  was  not  too  tired 
to  have  many  busy  thoughts  revolving  in  her 
mind,  the  result  of  which  we  shall  learn  by 
and  by. 

And  Mrs.  Sumner  too  had  busy  thoughts, 
but  not  of  the  pleasantest  kind.  She  was,  E3 
she  had  said,  glad  to  see  her  relative  ;  but,  in 
the  small  house  which  they  occupied,  could  not 
imagine  where  she  should  put  her  to  sleep,  or 
what  she  should  do  with  her  during  those  days 
and  nights  when  the  want  of  means  to  keep 
an  extra  fire  compelled  all  the  family  to  use 
one  room.  Willie  was  thinking  over  the  same 


208  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

thing,  and,  as  soon  as  mother  and  son  were 
alone  together,  they  began  to  plan.  Willie 
asked  if  his  great-aunt  could  not  occupy  his 
room. 

"  And  where  will  you  go  ? "  asked  his 
mother. 

"  Oh !  any  where.  I  can  go  into  the  closet 
under  the  stairs ;  or — I  have  it  mother,  splen- 
didly— I  can  go  into  that  little  bedroom  father 
began  to  part  off  from  the  kitchen." 

It  may  be  well  to  inform  our  readers  that 
the  house  consisted  only  of  two  lower  rooms, 
and,  as  no  partition  had  ever  been  put  between 
the  rooms  of  the  second  story,  one  long  cham- 
ber. Between  the  kitchen  and  the  sitting- 
room  there  had  been  originally  two  large 
closets.  These,  in  one  of  his  half-drunken  fits, 
Mr.  Sumner  had  intended  to  convert  into  a 
bedroom.  But,  having  ruined  the  closets,  he 
had  done  no  more  to  it ;  nor  would  he  even 
allow  his  wife  to  remove  the  rubbish  which 
Btill  remained  there,  he  growing  very  angry, 


THE  UNEXPECTED   VISITOR.  209 

and  seeming  to  consider  it  a  reproof  of  his  in- 
dolence, whenever  the  subject  was  mentioned* 
So  Mrs.  Sumner,  daily  inconvenienced  by  the 
want  of  her  closet,  and  gaining  nothing  in  bed' 
room,  had  ordered  the  wardrobe  made  for  her 
bed,  and  allowed  the  crib  occupied  by  Lotty 
and  the  baby  to  stand  in  open  view. 

Now  Willie's  proposal  involved  speaking 
about  that  closet  again  to  her  husband,  and 
she  really  dreaded  it»  Still  she  went  cheerfully 
about  preparing  the  tea,  and  pretty  soon  placed 
a  neat-looking  table  before  the  old  lady,  and 
proceeded  to  waken  her. 

Mrs.  Barbour  allowed  herself  to  be  awakened 
as  if  she  had  really  been  asleep  ;  then  made  a 
hearty  meal,  and  noticed  how  very  white  and 
nice  the  cloth  was  upon  her  table,  and  how  hep 
china  shone. 

"  Now,"  said  she,  having  finished,  "  I  want 

to  see  the  children."    Lotty  had  been  sitting 

quietly  in  her  little  chair,  never  so  much  as 

once  taking  her  eyes  off  from  the  old  lady 

18* 


210  Wlff  AND  WEAR. 

since  she  came  in.  And  the  old  lady  had 
looked  at  her,  had  seen  the  shadow  which  was 
cast  over  her,  but  could  not  understand  from 
whence  it  fell.  Willie  went  again  through  a 
formal  introduction.  Lotty,  with  a  few  ex- 
planatory words  from  her  mother,  laid  her  soft 
hand  in  her  old  aunt's,  and  looked  up  into  those 
dimming  eyes  with  such  a  mute  appeal  for 
love,  that  if  that  aged  heart  had  been,  in  those 
lonely  years  of  living  alone,  turned  to  stone, 
it  would  have  been  softened,  at  least  enough 
to  take  the  dumb  child  in. 

"  Poor  thing !  poor  thing !  "  said  the  old 
lady,  more  gently  than  she  had  spoken  before. 
"  She  will  be  saved  lots  of  trouble  in  this  world, 
after  all,  for  the  Bible  says  the  tongue  is  an 
unruly  member." 

Master  Warren  was  not  in  the  best  of  hu- 
mors. He  had  been  astride  the  rainbow- 
colored  box,  from  which  eminence  he  had  been 
immediately  taken  off  by  his  aunt ;  and  this 
was  all  the  notice  she  had  taken  of  him.  The 


THE   UNEXPECTED   VISITOR.  211 

baby,  too, had  crowed,  and  cried,  and  laughed, 
and  stared,  but  all  to  no  purpose.  Mrs.  Bar- 
bour  had  wonderful  eyes, — capable  of  seeing,  and 
not  seeing,  at  the  same  time.  This  the  chil- 
dren learned  pretty  thoroughly  afterwards. 
She  now  bestowed  upon  each  one  of  them  some 
little  mark  of  attention — lifting  the  baby  into 
her  lap,  and  giving  her  her  old  spectacle  case 
to  play  with,  while  Warren  was  allowed  to  kick 
his  heels  against  her  chair,  during  his  mother's 
absence  from  the  room,  without  having  any 
notice  taken  of  it. 

Mrs.  Sumner  stole  up  stairs  to  make  every 
thing  ready  there,  before  her  husband's  return. 
She  was  quite  uncertain  how  he  might  receive 
a  guest  who  struck  him  so  far  from  favorably, 
and  wished  to  be  present  in  the  room  all  the 
time  during  the  first  evening.  Nor  was  she 
wrong  in  her  anticipations.  Mr.  Sumner's 
temper  had  been  soured  by  the  life  which  he 
had  led ;  and,  though  conscious  of  deserving 
it,  he  did  net  often  forgive  the  person  who  ac- 


212  WIN  AND  WEAR. 

cused  him  of  his  misdeeds  ;  and  when  his  first 
surprise  was  over  at  seeing  who,  so  quietly 
and  so  much  at  home,  was  occupying  his  rock- 
ing-chair, his  reception  was  none  of  the  most 
cordial.  This  Mrs.  Barbour  was  not  slow  to 
see,  and  therefore  said,  bluntly,  '•  You  don't 
want  me  here,  William  Sumner.  I  dare  say 
you  are  right,  for  I  am  old,  and  cross,  and  very 
hard  to  get  along  with  ;  but  be  patient  a  little 
for  your  wife's  sake." 

There  was  no  resisting  this  appeal.  Mr. 
Sumner  was  not  bad-hearted,  but  guilty  ;  and 
as  he  looked  at  his  wife,  there  was  a  quiet  sup- 
plication in  her  eye,  which  was  fast  regaining 
over  him  its  former  power.  He  answered 
cheerfully,  and  what  was  better,  heartily,  "  That 
his  house  was  small,  and  his  accommodations 
poor ;  but  such  as  they  were,  for  his  wife's 
sake,  she  was  welcome  to.  She  had  but  few 
friends  in  this  world  ;  too  few  to  receive  those 
who  came,  unkindly." 

How  Mrs.  Sumner's  face  thanked  him !  he 


THE   UNEXPECTED   VISITOR.  213 

had  hardly  seen  it  brighten  so  for  years.  And 
thus  a  ray  of  sunshine  came  with  the  old 
widow  into  the  poor  cottage.  Surely  no  one 
expected  it,  least  of  all  Mrs.  Barbour  herself. 

Mr.  Sumner  lighted  an  extra  candle  that 
evening.  It  was  a  slight  attention,  but  hia 
wife  both  saw  and  felt  it ;  and  she  gathered 
courage  from  it  to  call  him  out  of  the  room, 
and  consult  him  with  regard  to  their  arrange- 
ments for  the  night.  "  Willie  proposes  sleeping 
in  the  closet,"  she  said,  hesitatingly,  "  if  you 
have  no  objections." 

"  How  can  he  sleep  there  on  a  pile  of  mor- 
tar ? "  answered  Mr.  Sumner,  testily  enough. 
"  But,"  correcting  himself,  "  let  me  take  a  light ; 
I  will  see  what  can  be  done.'' 

Mrs.  Sumner  heard  him,  in  a  few  moments, 
making  noise  enough  to  insure  something 
being  done.  And  she  saw,  too,  that  her  aunt's 
ears  were  wide  open,  and  that  she  was  wonder- 
ing at  such  a  noise  at  that  hour  of  the  night. 
However  not  a  word  was  said  in  explanation, 


214  WIN   AND    WEAK. 

and  when  it  had  fairly  ceased,  Mrs.  Barbour 
expressed  her  desire  to  go  to  her  bed. 

Mrs.  Sumner  had  been  dreading  the  exposure 
of  their  poverty,  which  the  unfinished  looks 
of  the  room  up  stairs  must  make  ;  but  she 
had  long  since  learned  to  take  these  things 
submissively,  so  she  lighted  the  candle,  and, 
without  a  word  of  apology,  prepared  to  show 
her  guest  to  her  room.  As  they  reached  the 
foot  of  the  stairs,  however,  the  old  lady  stopped 
short. 

"Niece  Mary,"  she  said,  "I  have  never 
mounted  a  stair  to  sleep  these  fifty  years,  and 
I  can't  do  it  to-night,  if  you  Jhave  a  corner  in 
which  you  can  put  me  down  stairs.  Let  me 
sleep  in  your  kitchen,  or  any  where.  I  won't 
make  you  any  trouble.  But  I  am  old,  and  cross, 
and  hard  to  live  with,  you  know,  so  you  had 
better  humor  me  when  you  can." 

Now  what  was  to  be  done  ?  Mrs.  Sumner 
cast  a  troubled  look  at  Willie,  who  was  follow- 
ing with  his  aunt's  bundle  in  his  arms,  and 


THE   UNEXPECTED   VISITOR.  215 

his  answer  was  so  prompt,  that  it  quite  sur- 
prised her.  "  Go  up  stairs  yourself,  mother,  with 
the  children,  and  let  Aunt  Barbour  have  your 
room  ;  it  will  be  nice  and  warm  for  her,  you 
know,  and  so  convenient." 

"  That  is  a  very  good  plan,"  said  his  mother. 
"I  wonder  it  had  not  occurred  to  me  before.  We 
can  all  be  in  that  great  room  up  stairs  together, 
and  no  need  of  the  closet."  Now  it  was  Wil- 
lie's turn  to  look  troubled,  for  if  they  were  all 
in  together,  what  would  become  of  those  early 
and  late  hours  which  had  always  be«n  so  pe- 
culiarly his  own  ?  He  was  really  ashamed  of 
it  afterwards,  when  he  remembered  how  an- 
noyed he  had  felt.  There  was  nothing  to  do 
now  but  to  return  to  the  room,  and  make  the 
proposed  changes  in  the  quietest  way  they 
could.  And  so,  to  the  visitor's  no  small  amaze- 
ment— for  she  had  been  for  some  time  prying 
around  with  her  eyes  for  down-stair  bedrooms 
— the  wardrobe  doors  were  opened,  and  a  nice 
comfortable  bed  soon  stood  ready  for  her. 


216  WIN  AND   WEAR. 

She  was  anxious  to  keep  Lottie  and  the  baby 
with  her,  but  Lottie  refused  by  so  many  signifi- 
cant shakes  of  the  head,  that  her  mother  knew 
it  would  be  in  vain  to  attempt  to  urge  her. 
So,  making  her  arrangements  as  rapidly  aa 
possible  for  the  night,  the  whole  family  were 
soon  quietly  at  rest,  all  sleeping  but  Mrs. 
Sumner,  who  was  busy  revolving  over  and 
over  again  in  her  own  mind  what  this  strange 
visit  might  portend,  and  how,  with  their  limited 
means,  they  could  support  even  for  a  short  time 
another  member  of  their  family.  There  were 
so  many  little  economies  which  she  could  prac- 
tise when  alone,  but  should  be  entirely  pre- 
vented from  doing  now  j  so  many  minutes  in 
which  she  has  tried  to  compress  the  work  of 
an  hour,  which  of  necessity  now  must  be  given 
to  the  entertainment  of  her  guest.  What  could 
she  do — what  but  trust?  This  was  no  new 
lesson  to  her.  She  had  learned  it  well ;  and 
so  she  went  to  sleep,  with  pleasant  thoughts  of 
her  unexpected  guest. 


xn. 

Iriah. 

rilHE  next  morning,  when  Mrs.  Sumner  wen* 
-*  into  the  kitchen,  she  found  her  aunt  up, 
dressed,  her  room  in  perfect  order,  a  fire  burn- 
ing in  her  stove,  and  one  also  partly  kindled 
in  the  cooking-stove. 

"  I  thought,"  she  said,  apologetically,  as  Mrs. 
Sumner  entered,  "  you  would  not  mind  my 
stirring  about  a  little,  as  I  am  so  used  to  it  at 
home.  If  I  had  only  known  your  way  better, 
I  could  have  had  your  meal  all  ready  by  the 
time  you  were  up.  Now,  if  you  can  spare 
some  time  and  patience  just  to  show  me  how, 
another  time  you  can  be  taking  up  the  children 
while  I  am  getting  breakfast." 

How  kind  and  cordial  she  seemod  1  Mrs. 
Sumner  recurred  to  her  troubled  thoughts  of 
last  night,  and  wondered  if  God  had  already 
19  (2") 


218  WIN   AND    WEAR. 

answered  her  prayer  for  help.  She  had  been 
so  long  accustomed  to  doing  everything  for 
herself,  that  to  have  assistance  from  one  who 
really  understood  how  to  do,  was  a  new  life  to 
her.  Aunt  Barbour  had  not  lived  alone  so 
many  years,  to  be  helpless  now.  She  soon  con- 
trived to  do  what  was  to  be  done,  and  even 
drew  out  the  rocking-chair  for  Mrs.  Sumner 
while  she  was  dressing  the  baby. 

Mrs.  Sumner  did  not  offer  the  slightest  ob- 
jection to  anything  she  chose  to  do.  She  saw 
immediately  that  the  best  and  happiest  manner 
of  living  with  Aunt  Barbour  was,  to  let  her 
have  her  own  way ;  and  certainly,  when  that 
was  as  considerate  a  one  as  this  of  the  morn- 
ing, it  was  no  very  difficult  task.  Willie  found, 
too,  that  he  could  help  his  aunt  quite  as  jead- 
ily  as  his  mother,  only  he  must  do  the  very 
thing,  and  nothing  else,  that  he  was  bidden  to 
do.  When  Mr.  Sumner  came  down,  he  felt, 
without  knowing  why,  that  the  domestic 
wheels  were  moving  verj  easily.  He  was  glad 


TEIALS.  219 

that,  for  his  wife's  sake,  he  had  been  kind  the 
previous  night. 

"  Mary,"  he  said  to  his  wife,  just  before 
going  to  the  mill,  <;  I  think  we  can  afford  to 
have  that  bedroom  finished  now,  and  we  really 
need  it  for  Mrs.  Barbour.  It  is  too  much  for 
you  to  go  up  stairs  to  sleep  with  all  the  chil- 
dren. I  will  send  masons  around  to-day,  if 
you  think  best." 

Mrs.  Sumner  made  no  objections.  It  seemed 
like  really  taking  a  step  up  in  the  world,  which 
was  none  the  less  pleasant  because  hitherto 
all  had  been  down. 

Aunt  Barbour  trotted  about  the  house  until 
she  made  herself  acquainted  with  every  part 
of  it.  "  Niece  Mary,"  she  said,  as  she  came 
down  from  up  stairs,  "  that  great  garret  of  a 
room  is  no  place  for  your  baby  these  cold 
nights.  I  see  now  that  I  have  taken  your  sleep- 
ing room.  To-night  I  will  try  some  other  quar- 
ters." Thus  appealed  to,  Mrs.  Sumner  told  her 
the  plan  about  the  closet  j  and  now,  having 


220  WIN    AND    WEAR. 

explained  the  noise  of  last  night>  the  next 
thing  Mrs.  Sumner  heard  was  the  broom, 
sweeping  away  the  dust  and  liine  from  the 
room,  with  the  energy  of  twenty  instead  of 
seventy. 

At  length  the  door  was  opened,  and  Mrs. 
Barbour's  wrinkled  face  made  its  appearance 
in  the  opening.  "  I  tell  you  what,  Niece  Mary," 
she  said,  "  this  is  the  nicest  little  room  that 
ever  was  built.  I  never  thought  when  I  seemed 
to  be  driven  away  by  such  a  longing  after 
you  and  your  children  from  my  old  home,  that 
I  should  light  on  such  a  pretty  nest  as  this. 
And  then,  there  is  Willie,  too.  The  Lord  be 
praised,  the  Lord  be  praised  ! " 

Mrs.  Sumner  could  not  restrain  a  smile.  "  I 
am  sure,  Aunt  Barbour,  it  is  only  because  you 
are  so  good  and  kind  that  makes  every  thing 
seem  so  pleasant ;  you  are  just  one  of  those 
persons  that  make  '  the  desert  rejoice  and  blos- 
som as  the  rose.' " 

"  Cross,  and  old,  and  hard  to  live  with,"  said 


TRIALS.  221 

Mrs.  Barbour,  cheerily,  as  she  again  closed  the 
door  and  resumed  her  work. 

Mr.  Sumner  was  this  time  as  good  as  his 
word  ;  and  when  the  children  came  home  from 
the  bean^field  at  noon,  they  found  two  men 
busily  at  work  fitting  up  the  new  bedroom, 
Willie  had  told  James  and  Lina  all  about  their 
guest  when  he  had  been  at  work  with  them  ; 
and  Lotty,  bending  over,  and  trying  to  make 
wrinkles  in  her  rosy  cheeks,  had  tried  to  tell 
them,  in  her  language,  just  how  the  old  aunt 
looked.  James  said  he  would  call  after  dinner 
for  Willie,  that  he  might  have  a  peep  at  her  ; 
and  Lina,  though  it  made  the  walk  consider* 
ably  longer,  insisted  upon  coming  too.  Willie 
felt  slightly  troubled,  for  though  these  children 
would  not  willingly  do  a  disrespectful  thing, 
there  was  something  so  very  funny  in  Aunt 
Barbour's  looks,  he  was  afraid  they  would  not 
be  able  to  help  it.  He  whispered  his  fears  to 
his  mother,  but  she  assured  him  she  could  not 
see,  herself,  anything  to  laugh  at,  and  did  not 
19* 


222  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

think  they  would.  Willie  determined  to  be 
all  ready  so  as  to  make  the  call  as  short  as 
possible,  and  accordingly  James  found  him  at 
the  door.  "  Don't  laugh,  James,"  he  said, 
softly,  "  for  she  is  as  good,  mother  says,  as  she 
is  funny ;  try  to  be  polite  and  sober,  won't 
you?" 

"Sober  as  a  judge,"  said  James,  drawing 
down  his  face.  "  I  defy  you  to  make  me  smile."- 
Lina  caught  hold  of  Willie's  hand  ;  she  was 
half  afraid,  the  preparation  was  so  formidable. 
Aunt  Barbour  was  much  too  busy  to  notice  the 
little  new-comers ;  indeed,  to  children  gen- 
erally she  had  rather  an  antipathy.  So  the  call 
was  got  nicely  through,  and  the  children's 
tongues  were  very  busy  discussing  the  old 
aunt,  most  of  the  afternoon. 

There  was  now  a  whole  week  of  bright  sun- 
shiny days.  This  first  golden  one  was  but  a 
type  of  six  others,  all  so  warm,  so  cheerful, 
so  laden  with  rich  harvesting,  that  Willie  felt 
every  night,  as  he  lay  down  on  his  nice  bed  in 


TRIALS.  223 

the  long  attic-room,  that  God  was  smiling  spe- 
cially on  his  endeavors  to  be  a  minister  ;  that 
every  one  of  thes<3  beautiful  days  was  sent  to 
aid  him  in  his  self-appointed  task  ;  and  that, 
after  all,  it  might  not  be  so  self-appointed,  but, 
as  He  did  Samuel,  God  might  have  called 
another  child  to  minister  before  Him.  And 
so  he  would  often  fall  asleep,  with  that  dutiful 
answer  of  the  young  prophet  upon  his  lips, 
"  Here  am  I,  for  thou  didst  call  me." 

On  Saturday  night  the  harvest  was  over.  The 
beans  were  all  gathered,  and  Mr.  Ashton  had 
them  removed  to  his  kitchen  in  order  to  have 
them  measured  with  as  much  "  pomp  and  cir- 
cumstance" as  was  possible.  There  was  to  be 
a  meeting  of  some  of  the  children  of  the  neigh- 
borhood, a  nice  supper,  and  a  variety  of  pleas- 
ant things.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Sumner  were  both 
urged  to  go.  Mr.  Sumner  pleaded  business 
for  an  excuse.  It  takes  a  long,  long  time  to 
repair  a  fault,  therefore  we  had  better  be  care- 
ful how  we  commit  one.  Now  it  had  been 


224  WIN  AND  WEAR, 

several  months  since  Mr.  Sumner  had  drank 
one  drop  of  liquor  ;  but  he  still  felt  guilty,  and 
did  not  like  to  go  into  any  society.  Mrs,  Sum- 
ner iiad  not  been  away  from  home  for  years, 
but  to-day  Willie's  eyes  asked  so  lovingly,  and 
Lotty  folded  up  her  hands  so  often  in  her  form 
of  supplication,  even  Aunt  Barbour  so  in- 
sisted that  she  would  have  the  baby,  and  take 
all  the  care  of  her  whether  the  mother  went 
or  stayed,  that  at  last  Mrs.  Sumner  consented 
to  go  ;  and  a  very  happy  party  they  made  as 
they  went,  Warren  with  them,  to  Mr.  Ashton's, 

James  and  Willie  were  too  impatient,  to  have 
the  measuring  long  delayed.  So  Jonas,  with 
his  peck-measure  in  hand,  at  last  began  to 
"  fill  in,"  the  boys  thought,  very  slowly.  But  he 
said,  "  Haste  only  made  waste,"  and  would  not 
be  hurried. 

"  One,  two,  three,  four,  five  bushels,  two 
pecks,  two  quarts,  and  one  pint,  every  bean 
counted  at  last,"  said  Jonas,  rather  pompously. 
Notwithstanding  his  predictions,  he  was  really 


TRIALS.  225 

proud  of  the  boys'  success,  perhaps  because  he 
thought  it  was  in  part  owing  to  his  own  pa- 
Li  once  and  skill. 

"  Eleven  dollars  and  fifty  cents,  then,"  said 
Mr.  Ashton,  "  is  due  to  these  boys ;  and  here  it 
is."  So  saying,  he  counted  out  the  money 
upon  the  table,  divided  it,  took  from  his  pocket 
two  nice  new  portmonnaies,  exactly  alike,  and 
put  them  in  their  hands. 

We  all  know  how  they  received  them.  How 
the  color  came  into  James's  cheeks,  and  how 
pleasure  danced  in  his  bright  black  eye  ;  how 
very  handsome  and  good  he  looked,  and  how 
dearly  his  mother  loved  her  boy  as  she  looked 
at  him  then.  And  Willie  could  only  grow  pale, 
and  must  keep  his  eyes  fast  upon  the  floor,  for 
they  are  overflowing  with  happy,  thankful 
tears.  And  his  mother,  standing  very  near  him, 
has  almost  the  feeling  that  she  must  put  out 
her  hand  to  sustain  him,  he  looks  so  pale  and 
drooping,  and  she  remembers  the  shadow  that 
fell  over  her  that  night  when  he  lay  sleeping 


226  WIN  AND   WEAR. 

in  the  moonlight.  "  God  keep  my  boy" — she 
does  not  repeat  it  so  that  mortal  ear  can  hear, 
but  God  is  listening. 

Five  dollars  and  seventy -five  cents!  How 
rich  Willie  felt !  What  should  he  do  with  it,  iu 
order  to  keep  it  safely  against  that  day  ? 

Now  commenced  the  plays  in  earnest.  James 
was  the  life  and  spirit  of  the  whole ;  and  as  for 
Lina,  she  was  perfectly  wild  with  joy.  There 
was  "  blind  man's  buff,"  and  "catcher,"  and  "  hot 
cockles,"  and  "Jack,  Jack,  don't  you  die  in  my 
hand/'  and  "I  spy,"  and  others,  too  numerous 
to  mention.  Lotty  soon  learned  them  ;  and  even 
little  Warren  contrived  to  take  his  part,  though 
he  was  so  continually  in  the  way  that  he  was 
more  of  a  football  than  anything  else.  Every- 
body pitched  over  him,  and  so  all  his  fingers 
and  toes  were  cramped  and  aching  to  a  de- 
gree that  required  all  the  manliness  he  had  to 
restrain  his  tears,  and  still  he  would  play  on. 

By  and  by,  when  the  children,  and  parents 
ioo,  were  beginning  to  be  weary,  there  waa 


TRIALS.  227 

such  a  nice  supper  ready  for  them !  and  of  all 
the  hungry  party  none  needed  it  more  than 
Willie,  for  his  happiness  had  made  him  tired 
long  ago,  when  the  games  first  began,  and  ho 
had  made  every  exertion  that  no  one  should 
discover  how  frail  he  really  was.  No  one  but 
his  mother  did  ;  it  would  have  been  impossible 
to  have  deceived  her.  And  when  this  very 
pleasantest  of  all  pleasant  afternoons  was 
over,  and  his  mother  returned  early  home, 
pleading  the  baby  for  her  excuse,  he  whispered 
to  her  the  wish  to  go  too,  for  "  he  was  a  little 
weary." 

Aunt  Barbour  must  be  told  everything  that 
had  happened,when  they  returned.  Mrs.  Sumner 
sent  Willie  up  stairs  to  rest,  and  patiently  re- 
peated what  she  thought  would  interest  her 
aunt ;  nor  was  she  a  little  surprised,  when  at 
the  end  of  her  narration,  the  old  lady  said, 

"  Willie  Sumner  is  going  to  die.  There  ia 
none  of  your  angels  made  to  live  here  upon 
this  arth  of  ou~s.  Heaven  is  the  place  fo* 


228  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

them  ;  so,  you  see,  you  needn't  go  to  lotting  oil 
him  too  much.  'Taint  God's  way." 

There  was  an  echo  of  Mrs.  Sumner's  own 
foreboding  ;  but  what  could  have  given  rise  to 
the  thought  in  Mrs.  Barbour's  mind  she  could 
not  surmise.  She  answered,  in  a  meek  and 
sorrowful  tone  :  "It  must  all  be  as  God  wills, 
Aunt  Barbour.  He  is  a  precious  child,  but 
he  belongs  to  his  Father  in  heaven,  as  well 
as  to  his  mother." 

:<  Oh  !  now,  don't  be  agoing  to  be  cast  down 
by  an  old  woman's  croaking,"  said  Mrs.  Bar- 
bour, changing  her  own  tone  at  once  to  that 
of  cheerfulness.  "  I  dare  say,  before  I  have 
been  here  much  longer,  I  shall  find  out  he  has 
enough  of  old  Adam  in  him  to  save  him  ;  and, 
now  I  think  of  it,  as  he  has  been  frolicking  the 
whole  afternoon,  he  might  as  well  have  brought 
in  some  kindlings  for  to-morrow  morning.  I 
have  no  doubt  it  will  be  forgotten,  so  I  will 
go  and  see  to  it  myself ;"  and,  glad  of  an  excuse 
to  hurry  away  from  the  sadness  she  had  oc- 


TRIALS.  229 

casioned,  and  really  wishing  to  save  the  child 
the  trouble,  she  went  out  and  collected  what 
Willie  declared  "  was  the  finest  basket  of  shav- 
ings he  ever  saw." 

That  night,  long  after  Willie  was  fast  asleep, 
his  mother  rose  ffom  her  bed  and  went  to  his 
side.  He  was  sleeping  as  soundly  and  as 
sweetly  as  need  be.  She  touched  him,  and  the 
warmth  of  life  and  health  came  back,  his  silent 
answer  to  her  anxieties.  He  looked  so  peaceful 
and  happy,  that  she  felt  it  was  wrong  in  her 
to  distrust  God  for  a  moment ;  that  it  was  no 
way  to  keep  her  treasure,  so  to  idolize  it  that  she 
put  it  before  Him.  And  in  her  dreams  during 
the  rest  of  the  night,  she  seemed  to  be  walking 
with  him  in  his  manhood,  leaning  upon  his  arm, 
looking  up  into  his  loving  face  for  that  sup- 
port which  had  been  denied  to  her  in  her  hus- 
band ;  but  he  had  on  wings,  long  and  white, 
though  they  were  folded  gracefully  behind  him, 
and  she  could  only  see  them  glance  forth, 
now  and  then,  like  flakes  of  the  purest  snow. 


230  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

During  the  time  of  the  harvesting  the  bed 
room  had  been  progressing,  and  the  day  after 
the  celebration  at  Mr.  Ashton's  the  carpenter 
pronounced  it  finished.  This  was  an  epoch  in 
the  life  of  the  Sunmer  family,  for  it  introduces1 
their  first  important  change  for  the  better. 
So  they  all  felt  it,  and  it  would  have  been  im- 
possible to  count  the  many  visits  which  were 
made  to  it  during  this  first  day.  And  now 
arose  that  important  question,  how  were 
they  to  get  it  furnished?  Mrs.  Sumner  had 
revolved  this  in  her  mind  many  times,  but 
always  without  approaching  any  nearer  a 
decision.  The  expense  of  making  the  room 
was  all  they  could  now  afford.  They  must  live 
on  yet  a  little  longer  as  they  were  at  present, 
and  be  patient.  Mr.  Sumner  wished  to  run  in 
debt  for  what  was  necessary  ;  but  on  this  point 
his  wife  was  decided.  Never  in  their  days  of 
extremest  poverty  had  she  been  willing  to  do 
this;  she  certainly  should  not  now.  Willie 
stood  by,  listening  to  the  discussion,  all  tho 


TRIALS.  231 

time  revolving  in  his  mind  a  plan  of  his  own. 
The  money  which  he  had  just  received  from  his 
beans  was  the  sum  needed.  Six  dollars,  his 
mother,  said  would  make  the  room  comfortable. 
He  had  five  dollars  and  seventy-five  cents  for 
his  share  of  the  farm  profits,  and  then  sixty- 
two  cents  which  he  had  earned  at  the  mill  ; 
but — but—  How  much  there  is  sometimes  in 
a  little  word  !  Now  this  but  contained  a  great 
trial  to  Willie,  and  as  he  was  not  perfect,  but 
like  all  other  children  made  up  of  good  and 
bad,  he  took  his  cap  and  went  away  into  the 
woods,  that  he  might  have  a  chance  to  think 
the  matter  over  quietly  and  thoroughly  alone. 
It  was  a  cloudy  day.  Great  dark  clouds  hung 
over  the  sky  like  a  pall,  and  an  angry  wind 
moaned  low  and  threateningly  through  the 
pine  woods  as  he  approached  them.  These 
were  the  same  woods  where  he  had  once 
sought  for  Lotty.  They  had  never  been  pleas- 
ant to  him  since,  for  they  were  so  associated 
with  the  fears  and  anxieties  of  that  sad  morn- 


232  WIN   AND    WEAR. 

ing.  Perhaps  it  was  because  his  heart  was  so 
heavy  that  he  turned  to  them  now.  He  soon 
found  himself,  panting  and  out  of  breath,  follow- 
ing up  the  same  cart-path  he  had  taken  then  ; 
and  he  went  on,  on,  until  he  had  to  stop  from 
very  weariness.  Then  he  sat  down  upon  an 
old  partly-decayed  log,  and  began  carefully 
turning  up  with  his  feet  every  stone  or  little 
stick  which  lay  partly  embedded  in  the  long 
brown  slippery  pine  leaves.  If  my  young 
readers  have  noticed  at  all  how  they  think, 
when  they  have  resolved  to  do  so,  they  will 
find  it  is  very  much  in  the  same  way  that  they 
study  ;  that  is,  fix  their  mind  upon  a  subject 
one  moment,  and  the  next  their  thoughts  will 
be  wandering,  like  the  fool's  eyes,  to  the  ends 
of  the  earth.  So  it  was  with  Willie  now. 
When  the  suggestion  first  came  to  him,  he  had 
thought  he  could  decide  so  much  better  out  in 
the  woods, — alone,  and  still.  Now  he  was 
there,  and  under  every  stone  or  chip  he  found 
something  to  amuse  or  distract  him. 


TRIALS.  233 

Innumerable  insects,  which  1  ad  been  born  and 
would  have  died  there  but  for  the  wandering 
steps  and  troubled  mood  of  the  boy,  crawled 
up  from  the  fibrous  earth,  and  stretched  them- 
selves out,  with  their  long  scrawny  limbs,  and 
looked  up  at  the  child  as  wondering  as  himself. 
And  there  he  sat,  counting  their  varieties,  and 
saying  over  and  over  again,  as  he  came  suddenly 
back  to  the  object  of  his  visit  there,  "  But  my  six 
dollars.  What  shall  I  do  ?  what  shall  I  do  ?  " 
How  quickly  James  Ashton  would  have  de- 
cided. This  very  moment,  if  he  could  only 
have  known  how  much  trouble  his  young  friend 
was  in,  how  soon  he  would  have  come  to  him, 
and  how  cheerfully  he  would  have  solved  his 
doubts  by  giving  him  his  five  dollars  and 
seventy-five  cents !  But,  after  all,  their  circum- 
stances were  so  different,  it  would  be  unfair  to 
draw  this  comparison  between  the  boys. 
James  had  never  known  a  want,  and  had  never 
had  a  proper  wish  ungratified.  His  future  was 
as  bright  as  kind,  good  parents,  wealth,  and 


234  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

health  could  make  it.  "Willie  had  never  known 
anything  but  want. — his  wishes  were  only  his 
greatest  necessities  ;  and  his  future, — oh !  it 
was  this  future  over  which  he  was  brooding 
now.  That  college  course,  and  his  minister 
life !  it  seemed  to  him,  as  he  became  more 
familiar  with  the  moving  world  around  him, 
to  assume  just  this  shape, — the  whole  of  it  to  lie 
in  the  disposal  made  of  that  sum,  which  was 
the  beginning.  "  If  I  do,"  said  Willie's  kind 
heart,  "  keep  this  money  and  hoard  it  up  for 
myself,  my  mother  must  live  for  a  long  time 
just  as  inconveniently  as  she  does  now.  She  is 
not  strong  ; — ah !  well,  would  she  hesitate  one 
moment  to  give  all  she  had  if  it  would  only  be 
the  means  of  doing  me  a  tenth  part  of  the  good 
which  my  money  can  do  her  ?  Then  old  Aunt 
Barlow,  how  kind  and  good  she  is !  What  a 
nice  little  home  that  would  make  for  her  all 
the  rest  of  her  life,  poor  lonely  being  that  she 
is !  Father,  too,  I  dare  say  it  would  encourage 
him  to  feel  that  he  had  some  one  to  do  some- 


TRIALS.  235 

thing,  beside  himself."  Willie  took  his  Cap 
from  off  the  crumbling  log  ;  lie  would  hesitate 
no  longer  ;  he  would  go  right  home,  and  cheer- 
fully, yes,  cheerfully — that  would  be  very  hard, 
but  he  would  try — would  carry  the  money  to 
his  mother  for  this  purpose.  "  But  stop,Willie," 
said  his  eager,  grasping  mind  ;  "  if  you  do  that, 
what  is  to  become  of  your  education  ?  You 
know  very  well  that  you  must  do  everything 
for  yourself.  Now  show  some  good  common 
sense,  and  look  ahead  a  little.  Suppose  you 
give  all  your  money,  this  is  only  the  first  of 
many,  many  wants.  Is  it  your  business  to 
supply  them,  or  your  father's  ?  And,  even  allow- 
ing it  to  be  yours,  do  you  really  do  the  most 
good  by  giving  this  paltry  sum,  or  by  taking 
it  to  acquire  the  power  of  doing  so  much  more 
in  the  future?  Think  of  that  pleasant  parson- 
age to  which  you  are  going  to  take  your 
mother  one  of  these  days.  You  will  be  a  very 
good  son  if  you  succeed  in  making  that  a  home 
for  her.  Don't  sacrifice  thai  for  this.  She 


236  WIX   AND    WEAR. 

will  be  old,  and  need  it  tLen.  She  is  young, 
and  can  do  very  well  now.  Besides,  Aunt 
Barbour  came  without  any  invitation,  and  has 
a  home  of  her  own  to  which  she  can  go  if  she 
is  not  comfortable  here."  Willie  took  off  his 
cap  again,  and  sat  down.  Ambition,  a  praise- 
worthy ambition,  and  filial  affection  were  wag- 
ing a  close  warfare.  Now,  or  then?  We 
often  have  to  settle  this  point  in  our  lives,  and? 
fortunately  for  us,  we  are  never  called  upon 
to  do  so  alone, — there  is  always  help  near  if 
we  seek  it.  Willie  was  too  busily  occupied 
with  his  hopes  and  fears  to  remember  this  now. 
He  was  trying  to  find  his  way  out  of  this  trial 
alone.  And  there  he  sat,  coming  no  nearer  to 
a  decision,  but  going  over  and  over  the  same 
points,  until  his  head  and  heart  both  ached, 
and  the  long  silent  hours  had  glided  past, 
bearing  the  record  of  this  child's  struggle,  with 
so  many  other  tales  of  human  life.  Willie 
knew  that  he  must  have  been  missed  from  home, 
and  that  the  dinner  hour  was  near.  "  Therp 


TRIALS.  237 

is  no  hurry,"  lie  said  to  himself  at  last ;  "  1  can 
come  back  and  decide  this  as  well  another 
time  as  now.  Mother  will  be  anxious ;  I  had 
better  go  home  at  once." 

"You  are  a  coward,  Willie  Sumner,"  said 
his  heart.  "  You  know  you  are  only  putting 
off  your  decision  in  order  to  keep  and  enjoy 
your  money  a  little  longer.  You  are  a  selfish, 
unworthy  boy,  not  fit  to  be  a  minister,  for  you 
only  "honor  your  father  and  mother"  when  it 
is  pleasant  and  convenient,  not  when  it  is  a 
trial." 

"  Now,  Willie  Sumner,"  said  his  head,  "you 
are  a  considerate,  thoughtful  boy,  and  show 
sense  beyond  your  years.  Never  do  any  thing 
in  a  hurry  ;  always  look  before  you  leap." 

Win,  if  you  wo^ld  wear,"  whispered  his 
heart,  as  if  one  adage  immediately  suggested 
another.  "  Do  you  suppose,  Willie,  you  can 
ever  wear  the  crown  promised  to  those  who 
save  souls,  if  at  the  very  beginning  of  your 
life  you  commit  a  selfish  action?  Don't  l>e 


238  WIN  AND  WEAR. 

guided  now  by  worldly  prudence.  Do  you* 
duty,  and  leave  the  rest  to  God.  He  will  help 
you  win  your  station  only  if  you  are  worthy 
to  wear  it." 

"Ah!  yes,"  said  Willie,  falling  suddenly 
upon  his  knees,  "  God  will  help  me — God 
will  help  me."  And  then  the  child  laid 
open  before  his  heavenly  Father  his  young 
heart,  freely,  fully.  And  as  he  came  unto 
Jesus,  He  forbade  him  not,  but,  putting  His 
hands  upon  him,  He  surely  blessed  him,  for 
Willie  had  no  longer  a  doubt.  His  trial  had 
ended.  He  had  been  in  danger,  though  he 
knew  it  not,  of  making  a  hard,  selfish  man.  If, 
with  all  the  plausible  excuses  which  his  head 
made,  it  had  been  victorious,  where  and  when 
could  he  have  drawn  the  line  which  would 
have  marked  out  accurately  what  was  due  to 
the  future,  and  what  to  the  present  ?  The  only 
right  way,  after  all,  is  to  do  our  duty  to-day, 
and  to  leave  to-morrow  with  God.  A  load 
had  fallen  from  Willie's  heart.  His  step  waa 


TRIALS.  239 

light,  his  eye  brighter,  and  his  pale  cheek 
many  shades  paler  for  the  struggle  lie  had 
had.  But  he  was  happy  now.  And  when  he 
reached  home,  finding  his  mother  troubled  at 
his  absence,  and  at  his  pale,  worn  face,  .he 
called  her  away  and  told  her  all, — how  great 
the  trial  had  been,  and  how  happy  he  was  in 
the  result. 

His  mother  only  kissed  him— perhaps  her 
heart  was  so  full,  she  could  make  no  reply  ; 
but  she  took  the  bright  new  portmonnaie  from 
his  thin  hand,  and  she  saw  as  she  took  it  how 
the  hand  trembled.  And  now  came  the  mother's 
trial.  She  fully  appreciated  all  her  son  had 
gone  through,  though  she  had  hardly  dared  to 
confess  it  to  herself.  She  had  feared  that  his 
eager  desire  for  an  education  would  make  him 
place  an  undue  value  upon  money,  and  she  had 
also  perceived,  with  that  close  watchfulness 
which  nothing  but  the  tenderest  affection  ever 
gives,  that,  gentle  and  unassuming  as  Willie 
eeemed,  and  really  was,  his  success  in  whatever 


240  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

he  had  undertaken  had  begun  to  soil  the 
purity  of  his  character  with  a  little  taint  of 
self-esteem.  He  needed — so  her  close  obser- 
vation told  her — the  very  trial  through  which 
he  had  now  passed.  Money  hoarded,  even  for 
a  good  object,  if  it  is  entirely  a  selfish  one, 
produces  selfishness.  But'  doing  for  others 
not  only  moderates  this,  but  places  the  object 
we  serve  high  in  our  estimation. 

All  this  passed  quickly  through  Mrs.  Sum- 
ner's  mind,  as  she  silently  took  the  purse. 
Willie  ran  away  to  finish  the  neglected  morn- 
ing's work,  and  his  mother,  wishing  she  had 
some  one  with  whom  she  could  consult,  went 
with  a  heavy  heart  back  to  hers.  Aunt  Bar- 
bour  easily  discerned  that  something  made 
her  niece  uneasy.  She  did  not  ask  her  directly 
what  it  was,  but  she  took  the  baby  away  from 
her,  and,  decoying  Lotty,  and  Warren  also,  left 
her  to  settle  the  matter  quietly  with  her  own 
heart.  Aunt  Barbour  was  every  day  a  wonder 
to  herself,  as  well  as  to  everybody  else.  She 


TRIALS.  241 

had  lived  so  long  alone  that  she  had  no  idea 
she  had  so  much  that  was  kind  and  good  left 
in  her  heart.  She  came  at  last  to  the  conclu- 
sion that  it  \vas  not  from  any  merit  of  her  own, 
but  because  her  "  Niece  Mary"  and  the  children 
were  such  perfect  human  beings.  Even  War- 
ren, great,  driving,  noisy  boy  as  he  was,  seldom 
displeased  her.  When  he  did,  all  the  punish- 
ment he  received  was  a  gentle  shake,  and  the 
words  :  "  You  will  never  make  such  a  man  as 
Willie,  try  your  best !  " 

Whatever  may  have  been  Mrs.  Barbour's 
intentions  in  coming  to  Belden's  Falls,  she  had 
never  made  them  known  to  her  relations.  She 
settled  down  there  as  quietly  as  if  she  had  al- 
ways lived  there,  and  always  intended  to.  And 
though  she  frequently  informed  her  niece  "  that 
she  was  old,  and  cross,  and  hard  to  live  with," 
no  one  would  ever  have  found  it  out  for  them- 
selves. She  was  always  thinking  of  some  way 
to  help,  and  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  incon- 
venience of  the  sleeping  arrangements,  Mrs. 
21 


242  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

Simmer  would  have  found  her  visit  a  great 
source  of  comfort.  With  regard  to  the  new 
room,  Mrs.  Barbour  had  been  wondering  over 
its  furnishing  quite  as  much  as  the  others.  She 
saw  and  appreciated  the  effort  Mr.  Sumner  was 
making  to  be  a  new  man,  and  she  knew  that 
nothing  would  throw  him  back  sooner  into  his 
old  habits  than  being  pressed  by  unpaid 
bills.  She  had  much  confidence  in  her  niece's 
discretion,  and  felt  sure  that  she  would  not  do 
a  thing  which  they  were  unable  to  afford. 
Yet  she  wished  very  much  to  decide  two  points, 
in  order  to  clear  away  many  little  daily  diffi- 
culties by  which  they  were  surrounded.  One 
of  these  points  was,  whether  she  wished  to  live 
for  the  remainder  of  her  days  with  Mrs.  Sum- 
ner; the  other,  whether  the  Sumners  would 
like  to  have  her.  The  first  question  was  every 
day  settling  itself  more  and  more  decidedly. 
She  really  loved  the  children — how  could  it 
have  happened?  She  had  thought  them  for 
years  the  most  troublesome  of  all  small  trou- 


TRIALS.  243 

bles,  and  yet,  every  one  of  these  seemed  to  be 
hers.  She  began  to  have  a  dread  of  her  soli- 
tary home — how  could  she  now  ever  return  to 
it  ?  But  then  she  could  not  ask  to  stay.  She  felt 
she  might  be  in  the  way.  She  knew  the  new 
bedroom  had  been  made  for  her.  She  should 
grow  older  and  crosser  every  year.  But  tho 
question  must  be  settled ;  she  must  know  what 
was  to  become  of  her. 

"Aunt  Barbour  is  getting  homesick,"  said 
Mr.  Sumner,  pleasantly,  one  day,  as  the  old  lady, 
without  being  conscious  of  it,  drew  a  deep 
sigh.  "  The  next  thing  we  know,  she  will  dis- 
appear as  suddenly  as  she  came." 

"  I  hope  not,"  said  Mrs.  Sumner,  still  more 
kindly.  "  I  shouldn't  know  how  to  live  without 
Aunt  Barbour,  now." 

"  I  am  only,"  said  Mrs.  Barbour,  the  tears 
coming  into  her  eyes,  "  old  and  cross — and — '' 

"  There,  aunty,  you  have  said  that  ofteii 
enough,"  said  Willie,  interrupting  her.  "  You 
are  just  the  be.^t  aunt  that  ever  lived  since  the 


244  WIN    A>?D    WEAR. 

world  was  made,  and  you  are  never  to  go  away. 
If  you  do,  Lotty  and  I  will  cry  our  eyes  out— 
won't  we,  Lotty  ?  "  He  then  made  Lotty  un- 
derstand by  signs  what  he  meant,  and  the 
child  no  sooner  comprehended  him,  than  she 
commenced  a  series  of  the  most  dismal  cries, 
catching  tight  hold  of  Mrs.  Barbours  dress, 
and  patting  her  wrinkled  face  with  her  hand. 
The  baby,  too,  seemed  to  think  that  the  person 
whom  she  considered  almost  exclusively  her 
property — for  she  was  seldom  ou^t  of  the  old 
aunt's  lap — was  in  danger,  for  she  began  to 
crawl  to  her,  and  pulled  away  at  her  dress  until 
she  was  lifted  up. 

"  Niece  Mary,  and  you,  her  husband,"  com- 
menced Mrs.  Barbour,  after  several  ineffectual 
attempts  to  restrain  her  tears,  "  I  am  a  plain, 
old  woman  ;  I  never  could  make  a  fuss  about 
any  thing,  and  I  never  can.  The  long  and  the 
short  of  the  matter  is,  that  I  should  like  to 
live  with  you  while  God  lets  me  live.  It 
hasn't  been  a  pleasant  thought  to  me,  dying 


TRIALS.  245 

all  alone  out  there  in  that  house  of  mine,  and 
some  time,  perhaps  a  long  time  after  I  was 
dead,  having  a  stranger  look  in,  and  say,  'Why, 
the  old  woman  is  dead  at  last ! '  I  began  to 
think  a  good  deal  about  it  before  I  came  here  ; 
so,  you  see,  I  had  to  come,  just  to  settle  the 
matter  whether  I  must  die  all  alone,  or  not. 
God  has  been  very  good  to  me,  and  I  like  you 
all ;  and  I  should  like  to  die  here,  if  you  ha'n't 
no  objections.  I  know  I  am  old,  and  cross, 
and —  there,  Willie,  don't  say  a  word.  I  have 
done  ;  and  now  it  is  just  as  your  father  and 
mother  say.  I  will  go,  or  stay." 

Mr.  Sumncr  read  his  wife's  wishes  in  her 
face,  and  promptly  replied  by  every  pleasant 
and  kind  thing  which  she  could  desire.  So  the 
matter  was  settled.  The  unexpected  guest  was 
to  become  the  livelong  inmate  of  the  Sumner 
family.  Willie  felt  rewarded  already  for  his 
sacrifice.  He  planned  how  he  would  ask  Mr. 
Ashton  for  the  steady  grey  horse,  and  drive 
his  mother  into  the  next  large  town  for  the 
21* 


246  WIN  AND  WEAR. 

new  furniture ;  and  he  soon  had  as  pleasant 
visions  of  how  pleased  Aunt  Barbour  would 
look  when  the  room  was  completed,  as  he  had 
had  before  of  going  to  college,  and  the  new 
scenes  and  life  there  awaiting  him.  This  an- 
nouncement on  Mrs.  Barbour's  part  made 
Mrs.  Sumner  decide  to  take  Willie's  money 
and  spend  it,  as  the  entire  good  of  the  family 
seemed  most  to  require.  She  therefore  very 
willingly  consented  to  Willie's  plan  for  a  ride. 
But  when  she  told  Mrs.  Barbour  of  it,  she  im- 
mediately requested  that  the  whole  might  be 
changed,  and  Willie  be  allowed  to  accompany 
her  to  her  own  home,  in  order  to  make  such 
arrangements  as  should  be  necessary  for  closing 
it.  Mr.  Sumner,  however,  felt  that  it  was  more 
suitable  for  him  to  go,  and  as  he  had  now  more 
confidence  in  himself,  he  borrowed  an  easy 
wagon,  and  started  for  the  second  time  toward 

the  town  of  C .     So  ended  for  the  present 

Willie's  plan  of  furnishing  ;  for  his  mother 
could  not  leave  home  while  the  rest  were 


TRIALS.  24*3 

away,  and  he  was  glad  to  find  that  to  keep 
his  money  was  now  rather  a  disappointment 
than  a  pleasure.  He  felt  so  soon  the  reward 
which  always  accompanies  the  decision  to  act 
unselfishly,  with  an  eye  to  the  comfort  and  ad- 
vantage of  others  rather  than  our  own.  His 
mother,  too,  was  satisfied  with  the  result.  She 
saw  that  Willie's  trials  had  not  been  in  vain, 
but  were  already  bringing  forth  fruit. 


XIII. 

Siclttuss 


A  FTER  three  days'  absence,  Mr.  Sumner  and 
*»  his  aunt  returned  to  Belden's  Falls  ;  and 
bringing  with  them,  or  rather  rumbling  along 
behind  them,  came  a  large  wagon,  well  loaded 
with  household  furniture.  Every  want  which 
Mrs.  Barbour  had  noticed  in  the  house  of  the 
Sumners,  she  had  carefully  supplied.  There 
was  her  nice  rag  carpet,  as  good  as  new.  Every 
thing  was  good,  for  it  had  been  well  kept  ;  chairs, 
tables,  bedsteads,  old-fashioned  linen  chintz, 
window  hangings,  beds  and  bedding,  real 
homespun  linen  sheets,  bedquilts,  every  pattern, 
from  the  rose  to  the  newly  invented  rising  sun, 
and  all  so  neatly  made  !  There  were  old- 
fashioned  pewter  pans,  which  would  have  an- 
swered for  looking-glasses,  and  an  array  of 
brass  kettles  —  "real  gold."  Warren  said,  as 

<248) 


SICKNESS   AND   DEATH.  249 

he  passed  his  fingers  admiringly  over  their 
shining  surface,  and  was  immediately  told, 
li  Little  boys  should  never  touch." 

Never,  since  Mrs.  Sumner  was  married,  had 
she  received  so  rich  an  addition  to  her  house- 
keeping stores  ;  and  now,  too,  the  question  of 
Willie's  money  was  at  rest.  Aunt  Barbour 
would  not  only  supply  her  own  wants,  but  very 
largely  those  of  the  house. 

Her  old  home  had  been  easily  rented,  she 
refusing  to  sell  it,  though  she  had  some  good 
offers  for  it,  for  fear  she  might,  after  all,  "have 
to  go  there  to  die  alone."  She  had  contrived 
to  keep  Mr.  Sumner  very  busy,  and  therefore 
out  of  the  way  of  temptation,  and  had  planned 
for  and  with  him  in  an  adroit  and  thoughtful 
way  which  quite  astonished  him. 

The  money  which  she  received  for  the  rent 
of  the  house  was  to  go  to  Mr.  Sumner  for  her 
board.  "  So,  now,"  she  said,  as  the  wagoner 
was  paid,  and  turned  his  horse  homeward — "  so 
now  Niece  Mary,  I  am  come,  bag  and  baggage, 


250  WIN    A XI'    WEAK. 

to  live  with  you  for  better  or  for  worse.  God 
bless  us  both,  and  help  you  to  remember  I  am 
old,  and —  but  there  is  Willie,  and  I  don't 
think  he  likes  to  hear  me  call  myself  names." 

And  now,  soon,  matters  in  the  family  began 
to  assume  a  settled  appearance.  Vacation  was 
over,  and  Willie  resumed  his  school.  The  long 
evenings  for  study  were  fast  coming  on.  There 
was  more  talking  than  there  used  to  be  before 
Aunt  Barbour  came  ;  so  he  often  went  to  his 
own  room,  and,  wrapped  up  in  his  knit  shawl 
"  as  warm  as  toast,"  Aunt  Barbour  said,  he 
used  to  complete  his  lesson  ;  and  often  have 
time  beside  to  look  over  the  things  in  that  old 
hair-trunk.  This  was  a  never-failing  source 
of  amusement  to  him.  He  would  spend  hours 
trying  to  decipher  some  old  sermon,  hoping, 
from  every  new  sentence  he  puzzled  out,  to 
discover  something,  he  hardly  knew  what, — 
but  something  which  would  be  of  great  future 
use  to  him. 

One  day  he  brought  James  with  him  to  look 


SICKNESS   AND   DEATH.  251 

at  his  pile  of  treasure.  James  laughed  heartily 
at  the  small  cramped  hand  in  which  they  were 
written,  and  the  time-stained  paper.  He  would 
as  soon  have  thought  of  trying  to  read  Hin- 
doostanee,  as  of  attempting  these.  "  But 
then,  you  know,"  he  said,  good-naturedly,  "  you 
mean  to  be  a  minister  and  write  sermons.  I 
have  just  as  much  as  I  want  of  them  on  Sun- 
day. I  am  going  to  be  a  lawyer,  and,  by  and 
by,  President  of  the  United  States.  When  1 
am,  you  shall  be  my  private  chaplain." 

Willie  laughed  too,  but  said  "he  should 
expect  to  be  settled  over  some  large  and  thriv- 
ing parish  by  that  time,  who  would  be  so  much 
attached  to  him  they  could  not  possibly  spare 
him." 

James  borrowed  a  sermon  to  take  home  to 
show  to  his  father,  "  who,"  he  said,  "  dearly 
loved  every  thing  that  was  old  and  musty  ; 
every  thing  but  an  old  child." 

After  he  had  left,  Willie  sat  down  again  to 
the  perusal  of  the  sermons,  or  rather  to  turn- 


252  WIN   AND   WEAK. 

ing  the  leaves  slowly  over,  and  to  wondering 
whether  the  time  w©uld  ever  in  truth  and  in 
reality  come,  in  which  he  could  write  such 
things.  It  seemed  like  one  of  those  dreams, 
those  pleasant  dreams,  which  he  had  so  often 
when  he  was  wide  awake.  Perhaps  he  began 
to  think  more  of  those  dreams  than  of  the 
manuscript,  for  he  was  suddenly  wakened  from 
his  reverie  by  opening  the  leaf  upon  an  old, 
very  yellow  stiff  piece  of  something  like  paper, 
yet  which  he  felt  quite  sure  was  not  paper. 
It  was  neatly  folded,  and  tied  around  with  a 
bit  of  black  tape.  As  he  was  about  slipping 
the  tape,  he  heard  some  one  call  him — it  was 
his  mother  ;  so  he  put  every  thing  neatly  away, 
and  hastened  down.  Lotty  had  been  hanging 
her  head,  refusing  to  eat,  and  seeming  somewhat 
feverish  for  several  days.  Now  she  was  sit- 
ting in  her  mother's  lap,  moaning  with  pain  ; 
and  Mrs.  Sumner  wished  Willie  to  go  at  once 
for  the  doctor.  Sickness,  in  a  severe  form,  had 
never  entered  their  home.  Mrs.  Sumner  had 


SICKNESS   AND    DEATH.  253 

often  thought  it  to  be  such  a  cause  for  true  grat- 
itude that,  with  trial  in  almost  every  other 
form,  this  had  been  spared  her.  But  now  Lotty's 
sickness  seemed  to  increase  with  fearful  ra- 
pidity. Aunt  Barbour  pronounced  it  fever, 
measles,  small-pox,  or  some  violent  disease ; 
and  Mrs.  Sumner,  witli  her  limited  experience, 
was  unable  to  afford  the  child  any  relief. 
"  Willie  must  run  quickly  for  good  old  Dr. 
Spofford  ;  "  and  Willie  did  go  so  quickly,  that 
almost  before  it  seemed  possible,  they  heard 
the  wheels  of  the  doctor's  sulky  rattling  to- 
wards the  house.  Willie  was  sitting  in  front, 
on  the  medicine  chest.  The  doctor  never  for- 
got to  be  kind  to  children,  and  had  thus 
brought  the  exhausted  child  home. 

There  was  no  doubt  what  Lotty's  sickness 
was.  He  immediately  pronounced  it  scarlet 
fever.  But  the  great  wonder  was,  where  the 
child  could  have  taken  it.  She  had  not  been 
away  from  home,  where  she  could  be  ex- 
posed. But  still,  scarlet  fever  it  was  ;  and 


254  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

it  soon  proved  to  be  of  the  most  virulent 
kind. 

"  There  was  no  use  now,"  Dr.  Spofford  said, 
"  to  remove  the  other  children.  It  Had  already, 
before  he  was  called,  passed  the  stage  when  it 
was  generally  considered  infectious  ;  and  what- 
ever could  be  taken,  had  already  been  done." 

There  is  no  disease,  in  all  the  wide  world, 
which  falls  upon  the  ear  of  a  mother  with  such 
terror  as  this  of  scarlet  fever.  Looking 
around  upon  her  little  band  of  children,  she 
feels  instinctively  that  it  is  to  be  broken  ;  and 
the  one  who  can  least  be  spared  is  always  the 
one  who  is  the  sickest,  and  in  the  most  danger 
of  being  taken.  Poor  helpless  little  Lotty !  .Any 
one  of  the  other  children  could  have  spoken 
to  tell  her  pains  ;  but  this  child  has  lost  even 
her  dumb  power  of  making  her  sufferings 
known,  and  lies  there  in  her  mother's  arms, 
tossing  her  aching  limbs,  and  moaning  that 
heart-rending  moan  which  only  the  dumb  can 
utter. 


SICKNESS    AND    DEATH.  255 

And  no  >Y,  how  invaluable  Aunt  Barbour  was ! 
How  softly  she  moved  about  the  house !  How 
thoughtfully  she  took  the  children  into  her 
own  bedroom  ;  and  even  Warren's  mischievous 
tricks  were  borne  with  and  forgiven. 

Mrs.  Sumner  need  never  leave  Lotty.  The 
child  never  opened  her  eyes,  but  they  fell  upon 
her  mother  ;  never  moved  her  parched  lips, 
but  her  mother's  hand  held  the  cooling  drink  ; 
never  moved  her  aching  head,  seeking  for  a 
fresh,  cool  pillow,  but  she  turned  it  so  gently, 
and  with  such  love  and  tenderness,  that  Lotty 
almost  forgot  her  pain.  Willie,  too,  was  there. 
He  could  not  go  to  school,  for  fear  of  taking 
the  fever  among  the  children  ;  so  he  was  al- 
ways near,  and  ready  to  help  his  mother  in  the 
thousand  little  attentions  which  sickness  calls 
out  from  the  thoughtful  heart.  No  one  can 
know  with  what  agony  the  mother  turned 
from  the  sick  child  to  this  boy,  now  so  full  of 
future  promise ;  but  in  a  few  days,  she  knew, 
to  be  hovering  between  life  and  death.  What 


256  WIN    AND    WEAK. 

would  Mrs,  Sumner  have  done,  if  she  had  not 
been  a  Christian  ;  if  she  had  had  to  sit  there 
through  those  long,  weary  days,  when  heart 
and  flesh  both  failed  her,  with  no  God  whom 
she  could  trust  with  the  future  of  her  children, 
and  no  Saviour,  whose  human  heart  had  once 
yearned  over  that  dead  child,  and  whose  divine 
power  restored  it  to  its  weeping  mother  ?  For 
these  little  ones  He  had  made  a  home  in  the 
kingdom  of  heaven.  She  was  not  afraid,  now, 
to  ask  Him  to  take  them  in  His  arms,  and 
blessing  them,  to  bear  them  thither,  if  so  it 
seemed  best  in  His  sight.  She  had  all  the 
comforts  of  religion  ;  and  what  else  can  give 
any  at  such  a  time?  Let  Lotty's  father  an- 
swer, as,  too  anxious  to  go  to  his  business  at 
Mr.  Ashton's  office,  too  conscience-stricken  to 
oifer  any  aid  at  home,  he  wandered  about  the 
house,  now  standing  for  a  moment  beside  the 
sick  child,  now  trying  to  amuse  the  baby,  who 
cried  and  shrunk  from  him,  and  now  sitting 
down,  moody  and  fretful,  beside  the  table,  with 


SICKNESS   AND   DEATH.  257 

opened  but  unread  books  in  his  hands.  He 
dared  not  ask  God  for  the  lives  of  his  children. 
What  had  he  done  for  them  or  for  God,  that, 
after  these  long  years  of  sin,  he  could  come  to 
Him  now,  and  ask  the  greatest  of  all  boons  ? 
"  Without  God,"  he  was  emphatically  "  with- 
out hope  in  the  world." 

The  neighbors  were  all  very  kind.  Those 
heads  of  families,  where  young  children  at 
home  would  be  iii  danger,  did  not  come  much 
to  the  house  ;  but  when,  in  the  course  of  a  fort- 
night, Willie  and  the  baby  became  sick,  and 
Lotty  grew  every  day  worse  and  worse,  Mr. 
Ashton  assumed  the  responsibility  of  supplying 
the  wants  of  the  family,  and  sent  a  strong,  ca- 
pable nurse  to  assist  them. 

Willie  occupied  the  new  bedroom,  Aunt 
Barbour  having  forgotten,  in  her  anxiety,  that 
she  had  not  "  slept  up  stairs  for  fifty  years,"  and 
of  her  own  accord  exchanged  rooms  with  him. 
And  the  baby  in  its  little  crib,  by  Lotty's  side, 
would  be  tended  by  no  one  but  its  own  mother. 
22* 


258  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

Willie  was  never  so  sick,  and  never  so  thought- 
ful  before.  He  asked  to  have  the  door  opened 
into  the  room  where  his  mother  and  the  chil- 
dren were,  and  contented  himself,  lying  there, 
following  his  mother  wistfully  with  his  eyes, 
and  trying  to  smile  every  time  he  saw  her 
worn,  anxious  face  turned  towards  him. 

We  will  not  follow  the  family  through  these 
protracted  days  of  sickness  and  suffering. 
There  came  a  night — a  still,  dark  night — when 
there  fell  upon  the  house  the  hush  which  at- 
tends the  coming  of  the  angels.  No  one  heard 
their  approach,  no  one  saw  them  enter  the 
dwelling,  yet  all  but  Willie  knew  that  they 
were  there.  Dear  little  Lotty !  it  hardly 
seems  as  if  that  can  be  you,  lying  there  so  pale 
and  wan.  You  have  suffered — how  much 
you  could  never  tell,  and  no  one,  not  even 
your  mother,  can  ever  know.  But  these  angels 
are  waiting,  and  there  is  rest  for  you  now. 
You  have  never  heard  before.  But  listen !  No 
one  else  can  perceive  the  soft  rustling  of  those 


SICKNESS   AND    DEATH.  259 

downy  wings,  but  you  can,  and  you  smile.  The 
new  sense  is  the  first  dawning  of  the  new  life ! 
Listen,  still,  .again !  Those  bright  messengers 
are  near  you  now ;  they  are  bending  over  you ; 
they  raise  you  gently,  so  gently,  and — yes,  you 
hear  it  all :  it  is  the  song  of  those  little  ones, 
who  are  coming  forth  to  meet,  and  welcome 
you  to  that  beautiful  heavenly  home.  Not 
one  sound  of  earthly  music,  not  even  your 
mother's  lullaby,  has  ever  fallen  on  your  ears, 
but  yet  you  recognize  these  strains.  They 
have  breathed  before  through  the  solemn  si- 
lence of  your  being,  which  God  Himself  had 
made.  And  the  first  words  you  have  ever 
uttered  shall  be  those  of  that  new  song, 
1  Worthy  is  the  Lamb  which  was  slain.'  Blessed 
Saviour !  the  angels  have  borne  her  to  you,  and 
you  have  taken  our  stricken  child  :  no  longer 
stricken,  but  enfolded  in  your  arms,  and  blessed. 
"Willie,"  said  his  mother,  coming  softly 
into  his  room,  as  the  day  began  to  dawn,  and 
laying  her  head  down  upon  his  pillow,  ''  should 


260  WIN   AND    JVEAR. 

you  not  be  very  happy  if  you  thought  that  God 
had  given  to  Lotty  the  power  of  hearing  and 
speaking  ?  " 

Willie  turned  his  heavy  eyes  one  moment 
on  his  mother's  face.  He  knew  it  all,  and  ho 
said  quietly,  "  Mother,  Lotty  is  in  heaven !  " 

At  noon  of  that  day,  a  loud  deep  groan 
broke  from  the  room  into  which  they  had 
borne  the  dead  child.  It  startled  all  the  weary 
watchers  in  the  house.  Willie  heard  it,  in  the 
half-feverish  sleep  into  which  he  had  fallen, 
and  never  could  forget  it.  Mrs.  Sumner  recog- 
nized it,  and  buried  her  face  in  her  hands.  It 
was  wrung  from  the  heart  of  the  father,  who, 
standing  beside  the  cold  body  of  his  helpless 
child,  remembered,  oh !  so  vividly,  as  nothing 
but  a  guilty  conscience  can  make  possible,  the 
day  when  he  had  struck  her  ;  when  he  had 
seen  the  blood  stream  down  upon  her  white 
neck  ;  when  he  had  driven  her  out  into  the 
cold,  pitiless  winter  air.  "  Without  God, 
without  hope  !"  miserable  man,  no  words  can 


SICKNESS- AND    DEATH.  261 

tell  what  he  must  suffer  now,  with  what 
heart-rending  anguish  he  stands  beside  that 
little  grave,  and  feels  that  the  sods,  which  are 
so  soon  to  cover  it,  shut  out  all  hope  of  repa- 
ration. No  kindness  can  reach  her  now.  He 
may  be  a  changed,  a  Christian  man,  and  to  the 
remaining  children  a  kind  and  tender  father. 
But  no  loving  word  can  this  sleeper  hear  ; 
nothing  to  leave  with  her  there  but  this  memory 
of  hardships,  suffered  from  his  neglect ;  of 
cruelties  borne,  of  which  she  could  never  make 
complaint.  These  voices,  speaking  back  to  us 
from  what  would  otherwise  be  a  silent  land, 
utter  words  which  must  be  heard.  And  well  it 
were  for  the  living  if  this  remembrance  could 
be  oftener  present,  hushing  the  unkind  word, 
and  changing  into  a  kindness  the  unkind 
act. 

Soon  after  Lotty's  death,  Willie's  sickest 
days  came — days  when  his  mother  counted  the 
hours,  feeling  that  every  one  was  bearing  away 
her  precious  boy  ;  when,  as  she  sat  so  silent 


262  WIN   AND    WEAR. 

and  watchful  by  his  bed,  and  saw  him  grow 
thinner  and  paler,  she  remembered  often  her 
visit  that  moonlight  night  to  his  side,  and  how 
even  then  she  felt  that  the  shadows  which  had 
fallen  was  hanging  over  them.  Willie's  mind 
wandered  now,  as  it  had  so  often  in  health,  to 
his  future  minister  life  ;  and  one  of  the  most 
frequent  half-uttered  ejaculations  which  fell 
from  his  lips,  were  the  words,  "  Here  am  I, 
for  thou  didst  call  me." 

So  certain  were  all  his  friends  that  Willie's 
days  were  numbered,  that  no  one  thought  of 
speaking  a  word  of  encouragement  to  Ida 
mother.  And  the  prayer  of  those  who  loved 
him  best  was  not  so  much  for  life,  as  that  Jesus 
would  lead  him  gently  and  tenderly  through 
the  dark  valley  and  shadow  ;  that  he  might  be 
spared  the  lingering  hours  of  intense  suffering 
through  which  the  deaf  and  dumb  child  had 
passed  to  her  long  rest.  But  God  had  work 
still  for  Willie  to  do,  and  had  otherwise 
decreed.  The  violent  symptoms  abated,  the 


SICKNESS   AND    DEATH.  263 

fever  gave  way,  and  good  Doctor  Spoffordt 
with  tears  of  joy  standing  in  his  eyes,  whis- 
pered one  morning  to  Willie's  mother,  that 
unless  something  he  could  not  foresee  should 
occur,  there  was  hope  for  her  boy.  The  first 
consciousness  of  returning  life  which  he  himself 
had,  was  holding  in  his  hand  a  beautiful  bunch 
of  flowers,  and  of  being  told  that  Lina  had 
sent  them  to  him.  From  this  time  he  rapidly 
convalesced  ;  and  in  little  less  than  a  month 
from  the  day  Lotty  had  been  laid  in  her  last 
home,  he  began  to  sit  by  the  window  and 
watch  the  snow-flakes,  as  they  piled  themselves 
one  upon  another  all  around  the  sill,  or  listen 
for  James  to  come,  on  his  way  to  or  from 
school,  with  Lina  ;  and  sometimes,  too,  to  look 
for  Jerry,  who,  although  pretty  constantly  at 
work  in  the  mill,  used  to  improve  every  op- 
portunity to  come  and  inquire  for  Willie, 
bringing  with  him  always  some  little  gift, 
something  to  show  he  was  a  grateful  boy. 
One  day,  it  might  be  a  bright  bit  of  calico  , 


264  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

another  a  rude  whistle,  which  he  fashioned  in 
his  leisure  from  work  hours  ;  and  once,  a  tiny 
sled,  quite  perfect,  considering  the  workman, 
with  a  bit  of  twine  for  rope,  and  stripes 
from  the  calico  to  answer  for  borders  of 
paint. 

Mrs.  Ashton  had  now  the  opportunity  she 
had  so  long  desired,  to  do  something  which 
would  really  assist  the  family.  Every  day  she 
made  some  little  delicacy,  and  sent  there.  She 
could  make  new  warm  clothes  for  the  baby, 
under  the  excuse  that  it  was  left  so  delicate 
by  the  fever  that  it  needed  extra  warmth,  and 
its  mother  was  too  worn  and  occupied  to  at- 
tend to  such  little  things.  Then,  Aunt  Bar- 
bour  was  very  old,  and  this  sickness  had 
somewhat  shaken  her  of  late,  so  her  cook  must 
work  for  a  short  time  for  both  families,  and 
no  need  to  do  much  in  that  line  at  Mr.  Sum- 
ner's  until  all  were  well  again. 

James  was  her  constant  messenger,  and  the 
boy  as  much  delighted  in  his  errands  of 


'And  once  a  tiny  sled.' 


Win  and  Wear. 


p.  264. 


SICKNESS   AND   DEATH.  265 

mercy,  as  his  good  mother  in  sending  him 
upon  them.  Thus  God,  in  the  beautiful  econ- 
omy of  our  human  life,  orders  it  that  the  afflic- 
tions He  sends  shall  do  extensive  good.  He 
sends  them  to  call  out  the  nobler  principles 
of  our  nature,  to  make  us  unselfish,  to  help 
as  to  obey  that  higher  law  of  "  loving  our 
neighbor  as  ourselves." 

Many  people  in  Belden's  Falls  said,  "  Poor 
Mrs.  Sumner  !  it  seems  so  strange  such  a  meek, 
good  little  woman  as  she  is  should  be  called 
to  bear  so  many  trials !  "  If  there  was  a  family 
in  town  to  whom  property  would  do  good, 
it  was  evidently  the  Sumner  family.  But  God 
knew  what  was  best,  and  Mrs.  Sumner  felt 
sure  that  He  acted  only  from  the  kindest  love 
and  the  most  unerring  wisdom.  Perhaps  this 
was  just  what  was  needed  to  complete  Mr.  Sum- 
ner's  reformation.  Lotty  was  the  dearest  of  his 
children  to  him,  the  one  who  had  been  most 
constantly  the  tender  tie  which  would,  for  a 
brief  space,  sometimes  arrest  his  downward 
23 


266  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

way.  No  other  death,  excepting  that  of  his 
wife,  would  have  affected  him  so  sensibly. 
God  knew  this,  and  who  can  say  that  He  did 
not  direct  accordingly?  From  the  time  of 
Lotty's  death,  every  one  felt  how  altered  a 
man  Mr.  Sumner  was  ;  and  no  one  was  more 
fully  conscious  of  it  than  Lotty's  mother,  who 
never  forgot,  while  she  prayed  that  the  child's 
loss  might  be  blessed  to  her,  to  return  thanks 
that  this  loss  had  also  been  to  her  the  occasion 
of  an  unspeakable  gain. 

Willie,  as  most  delicate  children  do,  took  a 
long  time,  after  the  danger  was  past,  to  recover 
his  usual  strength.  He  seemed,  to  his  mother, 
to  be  going  into  a  decline.  He  was  gentle 
and  quiet,  showing  little  interest  in  things 
around  him,  and  speaking  of  Lotty  often,  as 
if  he  expected  to  meet  her  again  after  a  very 
few  days.  The  first  real  desire  which  he 
evinced  for  occupation,  was  shown  by  a  request 
to  his  mother  to  bring  down  from  up  stairs 
the  favorite  pile  of  sermons.  "  Queer  play- 


SICKNESS   AND   DEATH.  26  7 

things  for  a  sick  child,"  his  mother  said,  but 
was  nevertheless  very  willing  to  gratify  him. 
Lying  on  the  top  of  the  first  pile  was  a  paper  • 
on  which  he  had  written  his  favorite  motto, 
"  Win  and  Wear."  This  his  mother  brought 
down  too,  and  his  whole  face  lighted  up  with 
delight,  as  he  saw  it.  Willie  was  evidently 
getting  better :  the  words  recalled  some  of  his 
old  ambition,  his  desire  to  learn,  his  wish  to 
be  useful,  to  be  great,  and  good. 

"  Mother,"  he  said,  after  he  had  looked  at  it 
in  silence  for  some  time,  "  Mr.  Ross  said  there 
was  hardly  a  situation  in  life  to  which  we 
could  not  apply  this  motto  with  truth  and 
utility.  I  should  like  to  know  how  we  could 
to  sickness,  to  scarlet  fever.  I  have  been  trying 
to  puzzle  it  out,  but  I  can't  make  much  of  it." 

Mrs.  Sumner  hesitated  a  moment ;  but  the 
uses  of  affliction  were  grown  familiar  to  her, 
so  she  said, "  Willie,  think  a  little  while.  What 
has  your  sickness  done  for  you — for  your  char- 
acter, I  mean  ?  " 


268  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

"  I  don't  know  mother,"  answered  he,  after  a 
few  moments'  reflection  ;  "  I  think  I  am  much 
more  fretful  than  I  used  to  be,  more  easily 
vexed,  more  indolent  and  selfish;  but  that  is  not 
what  you  mean,  I  am  sure." 

"  No,  my  boy  ;  you  are  not  yet  strong,  and  I 
think  can  hardly  judge  for  yourself.  I  will 
tell  you  what  I  hope  will  be  the  effect,  by  and 
by.  That  you  will  be  more  gentle,  more 
patient,  more  industrious,  more  thoughtful  for 
others,  and  more  anxious  to  dedicate  the  life 
which  God  has  spared  to  His  service.  You 
can  be  and  do  all  these  things  if  you  really 
and  earnestly  try ;  in  other  words,  if  you 
would  wear,  or  possess  all  the  benefits  which 
ought  to  result  from  affliction,  you  must  win 
them,  by  resolutely  setting  about  attaining 
them." 

"  I  understand  you,  mother  ;  but  somehow 
this  '  Win  and  Wear'  seems  rather  to  apply  to — 
to — almost  every  thing  but  moral  traits." 

"  You  are  mistaken,  Willie  ;  the  longer  you 


SICKNESS   AND   DEATH.  269 

live,  and  the  more  closely  you  observe,  thd 
more  certain  you  will  be  that  it  applies  to 
nothing  so  forcibly  as  to  feelings.  You  as 
surely  must  wear  what  you  win  here,  whether 
it  is  good  or  bad,  as  you  must  be  content  to 
take  that  place  in  society  which  you  earn  by 
your  conduct." 

Willie  looked  puzzled.  His  mother  thought 
he  would  work  his  way  to  this  truth  if  left  to 
his  own  reflections  ;  she  therefore  busied  herself 
about  something  else,  and  Willie  commenced 
his  search  through  the  old  sermons.  The  second 
one  he  opened  contained  the  yellow  thick  paper, 
tied  with  a  black  tape,  which  had  attracted 
his  attention  before.  He  took  it  out  and 
carefully  laid  it  aside,  intending  to  ask  his 
father  about  it  when  he  should  return  from 
the  mill.  Warren  was  attracted  by  its  odd 
look,  and  wanted  it  for  a  plaything,  but  got 
only  a  sharp  rebuke  for  meddling  from  Aunt 
Barbour.  But  no  sooner  was  his  father  in  the 
house  than  Warren  laid  the  whole  of  his  griev- 
23* 


270  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

ance  before  him,  for  he  'had  already  learned 
from  whom  now  to  expect  the  greatest  indul- 
gence. 

Mr.  Sumner  took  the  paper,  looked  at  it 
carelessly,  and  slowly  untied  the  tape  ;  but  no 
sooner  had  his  eye  fallen  upon  the  first  line, 
than  his  expression  changed,  and  his  attention 
was  riveted  in  a  moment. 

"  It  is  it !  it  is  it !  "  he  said  at  last,  having  read 
and  re-read  it  several  times.  "Aunt  Barbour — 
Mary !  here  is  the  will,  your  grandfather's  will, 
entire  and  complete  in  all  its  forms,  and  set- 
tling now  and  forever  the  question  of  the  mill 
lands ! " 

Aunt  Barbour  dropped  her  knitting  as  if  her 
hands  had  been  suddenly  struck  with  palsy. 
Not  one  word  could  she  utter  in  reply,  not  a 
single  question  suggested  itself  to  her  to  be 
asked.  Even  Mrs.  Sumner  seemed  struck  dumb. 
Adversity  she  could  bear,  but  prosperity  found 
her  all  unprepared,  and  at  a  single  glance  she  ' 
Deemed  to  take  in  a  smiling  future. 


SICKNESS  AND   DEATH.  271 

"Where  did  this  come  from,  Willie?"  asked 
his  father,  after  rather  mechanically,  than 
with  any  purpose,  reading  the  will  over  again 
aloud.  Willie  explained  it  all,  and  told  how, 
months  ago,  on  the  very  day  upon  which  the 
doctor  came  to  Lotty,  he  had  found,  and  won- 
dered over  it,  intending  to  ask  his  father  about 
it ;  but  the  events  since  had  entirely  put  it  out 
of  his  mind. 

The  will — that  of  Mrs.  Barbour's  father — 
proved  Mrs.  Barbour  to  have  been  in  the 
right  so  far  as  concerned  the  disputed  land. 
But  it  also  proved  what,  until  now  she  had 
entirely  forgotten,  that  her  real  estate  covered 
a  much  greater  extent  of  land,  and  that  she  had 
been  originally  the  owner  of  most  of  that  upon 
which  the  thriving  village  of  Belden's  Falls 
now  stood.  This  gave  a  very  different  turn 
to  affairs.  If  she  should  claim  all  that  right, 
fully  belonged  to  her,  what  was  to  become  of 
»those  who,  havirg  purchased  the  property  from 
other  hands,  had  the  right  of  possession  ? 


272  WIN  AND   WEAR. 

Mr.  Sumner,  in  true  lawyer  style,  briefly 
stated  these  points  as  they  discussed  the  will. 
How  much  was  involved  !  It  added  another 
look  of  care  and  anxiety  to  that  already  writ- 
ten upon  Mr.  Sumner's  face,  and  it  sent  Aunt 
Barbour  to  bed  that  night,  not  to  close  her 
eyes,  but  to  wonder  over  that  mysterious  Prov- 
idence which,  after  so  many  years  of  lonely 
struggle  and  poverty,  now,  in  her  old  age, 
when  for  the  first  time  she  had  a  prospect  of 
being  loved  and  cared  for,  had  sent  her  a  for- 
tune which  promised  to  be  by  no  means  small. 
Mrs.  Sumner's  heart  was  at  rest.  Willie's 
darling  object  was  surely  now  gained.  What 
could,  as  she  was  the  next  heir,  prevent  him 
from  attaining  an  education  ?  And,  delicate  as 
he  was,  how  much  he  needed  the  help !  Willie 
knew  nothing  of  all  this  ;  but,  in  a  tired  sleep 
that  night,  saw  countless  old  sermons  and 
wakened  weary  from  his  effort  to  read  them 
all. 


xni. 


WHAT  can  have  happened  to  Aunt  Bai> 
bour  ?  From  the  night  of  the  discovery 
of  the  will  she  has  been  a  changed  woman. 
She  used  to  be  very  correct  ;  her  step  was  firm, 
and  her  hand  steady.  She  heard  as  readily  as 
if  she  was  only  fifty,  instead  of  seventy  ;  and 
where  the  light  fell  strongly  upon  her  large 
Bible,  Willie  had  often  seen  her  reading  with- 
out the  aid  of  her  spectacles.  But  now  she 
begins  to  stoop,  as  if  there  were  a  weight  upon 
her  shoulders  which  was  bearing  her  down. 
There  is  constant  motion  among  the  narrow 
white  ribbons  'of  her  cap.  The  baby  is  very 
fond  of  her,  and  thinks  she  is  making  them 
dance  to  give  her  pleasure  ;  so  she  laughs,  and 
holds  up  her  little  fingers  in  a  vain  attempt  to 
catch  and  hold  them  still.  And  when  Aunt 

(273) 


274  WIN   AND 'WEAR. 

Barbour  spills  the  milk  with  which  she  is  en- 
deavoring to  feed  her,  she  shakes  her  pretty 
curls  at  her,  and  wonders  in  her  young  heart 
why  that  face,  that  always  had  a  smile  for  her 
before,  looks  so  solemn  now !  You  must  call 
loud,  or  Aunt  Barbour  cannot  hear  you.  The 
family  learn  this  slowly,  for  the  change  has 
come  suddenly,  and  no  one  was  prepared  for 
it.  And  then,  if  the  spectacles  are  mislaid, 
what  a  stir  is  made  to  find  them,  and  how 
Warren  is  accused  of  having  taken  and  lost 
them,  receiving  from  his  irritated  relative 
many  little  slaps  which  nobody  else  sees. 

Mrs.  Sumner  at  length  becomes  convinced 
that  something  is  the  matter  with  her  aunt, 
and  mentions  it  to  her  husband,  who  also  no- 
tices it,  and  says,  "The  sudden  change  of 
fortune  was  too  much  for  the  old  lady  ;  it  will 
probably  be  the  death  of  her."  And  then  Mrs. 
Sumner  begins  to  be  doubly  kind  and  attentive, 
trying  to  take  back  the  care  which  she  had  so 
gladly  transferred  to  her  aunt ;  but  from  this 


AUNT  BARBOUR.  275 

there  arises  new  trouble,  for  Aunt  Barbour 
grows  daily  crabbed  and  cross.  She  finds  a 
great  deal  of  fault  about  little  things.  She 
will  wash  the  dishes,  and  build  the  fires,  but 
she  drops  the  crockery  and  breaks  it  with  a 
crash  ;  and  once,  but  for  Willie's  timely  efforts, 
might  have  been  burned  to  death,  for  the  fire 
caught  the  corner  of  her  old  calico  apron,  and 
blazed  up  in  an  instant.  Willie's  hands  are 
botli  burned,  one  quite  badly  ;  but  he  has  saved 
his  aunt  from  injury,  and  he  hides  them  in  his 
pocket  until  the  smart  is  over,  trying  all  the 
time  to  bear  the  pain  like  a  man.  Aunt  Bar- 
bour never  so  much  as  thanks  him  for  what 
he  has  done.  To  be  sure  she  does  not  seem  to 
know  about  the  burnt  hands ;  she  only  appears 
angry  to  find  she  has  lost  her  apron,  and 
thinks  of  nothing  else.  She  sits  alone,  a  great 
deal,  in  her  small  bedroom  :  it  is  too  cold  for 
her,  but  she  resents  every  attempt  to  make  her 
comfortable,  and  she  is  carefully  gathering  all 
her  possessions,  which  she  had  scattered  about 


276  WIN  AND  WEAR. 

the  house,  into  her  own  room.  One  day  Mrs. 
Sumner  hears  her  hammering,  and  when  she 
goes  to  her,  finds  her  busy  driving  nails  over 
her  one  window,  so  that  it  could  not  be  raised 
from  without.  She  has  a  large  rope,  too, 
which  at  night  she  ties  around  the  door-handle, 
and  then  sleeps  with  the  ends  in  her  hands. 

She  never  has  a  light  when  she  goes  to  bed. 
She  has  stopped  reading  her  Bible  now,  before 
she  puts  her  head  upon  her  pillow,  and  she 
sometimes  forgets  to  pray.  Poor  Aunt  Bar- 
bour!  the  grasshopper  has  indeed  become  a 
burden.  How  will  it  all  end  ? 

Weeks  seem  to  be  doing  for  her  now  the 
•work  of  years.  Mrs.  Sumner  hints  to  her  that 
she  thinks  she  is  very  feeble,  and  wishes  to 
send  for  Dr.  Spofford ;  but  she  dares  never  pro- 
pose it  again,  for  she  receives  in  answer  a  per- 
fect torrent  of  abuse,  every  sentence  ending 
with  the  threat,  if  she  dies,  to  leave  her  money 
to  some  one  else. 

It  is  in  vain  Mrs.  Sumner  assures  her  that 


AUNT   BARBOUB.  277 

rtio  advice  she  gives  lias  no  reference  to  tho 
money.  She  is  obstinate,  and  becomes  at  last 
so  sensitive,  that  every  kindness  assumes  to  her 
failing  mind  the  form  of  an  effort  to  coax  from 
her  what  she  will  soon  possess. 

In  her  helpless  old  age  she  has  become  a 
miser.  Mr.  Sumner  was  right.  The  shock  of 
the  good  fortune  was  too  much  :  both  mind 
and  body  are  giving  away  beneath  it. 

The  children,  with  that  intuitive  perception 
that  something  is  wrong  which  belongs  to  the 
young,  learn  soon  to  be  quiet  when  she  comes 
out  of  her  room  ;  to  avoid  her,  when  they  can. 
Even  the  baby  creeps  away,  and  hides  behind 
her  mother's  chair.  Aunt  Barbour  is  so  self- 
absorbed  that  she  does  not  notice  this  at  all, 
and  what  would  she  care  now  if  she  did  ? 
Willie  is  old  enough  to  be  patient,  gentle, 
thoughtful,  and  so  he  tries  sometimes  to  be  ; 
but  Willie  is  not  perfect,  and  he  often  feels  the 
hot  temper  rush  up  into  his  face  when  she  an- 
Bwers  his  mother  sharply.  One  day  Aunt 
24 


278  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

Barbour  calls  him  into  her  room ;  she  has 
something  to  say  which  she  wishes  no  one  else 
to  hear.  Willie  really  trembles  as  he  stands 
there  alone  with  her,  for  she  takes  hold  of  his 
shoulder  with  such  a  tight  grasp  ;  and  her  eye 
is  very  bright  and  searching  when  she  fixes  it 
upon  him.  "  Willie  Sumner,"  she  says,  au- 
thoritatively, " "  you  put  your  cap  right  on, 
and  go  up  to  Mr.  Ashton's.  Tell  him  I  want 
him  to  send  his  Jem  and  wagon  right  down 
here  after  dinner,  to  give  me  a  lift." 

"  Give  you  a  lift?"  repeated  Willie,  not  at 
all  assured  by  the  strange  request. 

"  Yes,  give  me  a  lift,"  said  the  old  woman, 
shaking  him.  "  You  a'n't  deaf,  are  you  ?  And 
mind,  you  go  right  up  without  telling  your 
folks,  any  of  them,  one  word  about  it." 

"  I  can't  do  that,"  said  Willie  resolutely,  re- 
covering a  little  from  his  fright.  "  I  never  go 
away  without  asking  my  mother  if  I  may,  and 
I  can't  do  it  now." 

There  was  evidently  a  struggle  for  a  moment 


AUNT    BAttBOUK.  279 

in  aunt  Barbour's  heart,  for  she  loosened  her 
hold,  and  a  soft  expression  came  over  her  face ; 
but  it  was  only  for  an  instant. 

"  I'd  be  a  gal,  and  done  with  it,"  she  said, 
scornfully.  "  Go,  poor  little  thing,  and  tell  your 
mother  all  about  it,  but  don't  come  nigh  me 
again,"  saying  which,  she  opened  the  door  and 
pushed  the  boy  out.  Willie  went  immediately 
to  his  mother,  and  told  her  all.  Mrs.  Sumner 
thought,  considering  the  circumstances,  it  wa? 
best  that  her  aunt  should  be  gratified,  and  di- 
rected Willie  to  do  precisely  as  she  had  re- 
quested. 

Mr.  Ashton,  who  had  been  kept  fully  informed 
of  the  state  of  events  at  Mr.  Sumner's,  readily 
consented  to  gratify  the  old  lady.  James  was 
kept  from  school  that  very  afternoon,  and  sent 
at  one  o'clock  with  an  easy  wagon,  to  do  Aunt 
Barbour's  bidding,  whatever  it  should  be. 

Mrs.  Barbour  was  so  delighted  to  do  as  she 
wished,  that  she  seemed  to  have  forgotten  that 
its  proposal  had  been  attended  by  any  un- 


280  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

pleasant  circumstance.  She  looked  more  like 
her  former  self  than  she  had  for  weeks,  as  sho 
stepped  into  the  carriage  and  whispered  to 
James  where  she  wished  to  go.  James  snap- 
ped his  whip,  and  the  horse  trotted  off  at  a 
full  round  trot.  It  was  well  for  Mrs.  Barbour 
that  Mr.  Ashton  had  been  so  thoughtful  about 
the  easy  carriage. 

Just  after  dark  they  returned.  Aunt  Bar- 
bour looked  very  weary  ;  and  Mrs.  Simmer 
noticed  that  her  steps  tottered  considerably, 
as  she  came  to  the  fire,  but  for  fear  of  offending 
she  did  not  offer  to  assist  her.  Not  an  inquiry 
was  made  as  to  where  she  had  been,  or  for 
what  object,  and  that  night  the  family  all  lay 
down  to  sleep  as  quietly  as  if  no  unusual  event 
was  about  to  take  place.  The  next  morning 
breakfast  passed,  and  Mrs.  Barbour  did  not 
make  her  appearance.  This  was  very  unusual. 
But  her  niece  attributed  it  to  the  fatigue  nat- 
urally consequent  upon  a  ride,  in  her  aunt'a 
enfeebled  condition  ;  and  it  was  not  until  Mr. 


AUNT   BARBOUR.  281 

Sumnei'  had  been  for  some  time  gone  to  the 
mill,  that  at  last  she  ventured  to  go  to  her 
door  and  knock  gently.  Hearing  no  reply, 
she  knocked  still  louder;  but  all  was  still. 
Alarmed  at  the  continued  quiet,  she  endeavored 
to  open  the  door.  At  first  there  was  a  slight 
resistance,  but  it  gradually  yielded  ;  and  as  sho 
lifted  the  latch,  the  rope  was  slowly  drawn  out, 
and  fell  heavily  upon  the  floor.  The  sound  of 
the  fall  startled  Mrs.  Sumner,  and,  waiting  no 
longer  for  leave  to  enter,  she  stepped  quickly 
in.  Mrs.  Barbour  lay  in  her  bed,  one  hand 
over  the  counterpane,  from  which  the  rope  had 
evidently  just  "fallen  ;  the  other  was  under  the 
pillow,  which,  raised  a  little  by  the  hand,  half 
hid  the  old  lady's  face.  But  Mrs.  Sumner's  first 
glance  told  her  that  over  those  sharp,  pinched 
features  the  hand  of  death  had  passed,  and  that, 
coining  silently,  like  the  thief  in  the  night,  no 
nailed  window  or  fastened  door  could  prevent 
his  entrance.  Aunt  Barbour  had  gone  with 
aim,  had  left  all  earthly  treasures  for  those 
24* 


282  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

which  in  other  days  she  had  laid  up  where 
moth  and  rust  cannot  corrupt,  or  thieves  break 
through  and  steal. 

Willie  was  immediately  sent  for  his  father  ; 
and  the  dreaded  coroner's  inquest,  soon  sitting 
over  the  dead  body,  pronounced  the  solemn 
verdict,  "  Died  by  a  visitation  from  God." 

In  the  hand  which  was  under  the  pillow, 
was  found,  tightly  clasped,  the  last  will  and 
testament  of  Mrs.  Barbour.  It  had  been  drawn 
up  on  the  afternoon  previous  to  her  death,  and 
had  been  the  object  of  her  ride. 

Perhaps  she  had  had  intimation,  which  she 
imparted  to  no  one,  that  her  *end  was  near, 
and  had  therefore  hastened  to  express  her 
wish  in  a  sure  legal  way  with  regard  to  her 
property.  Perhaps  the  long  cold  drive  had 
hastened  on  the  event  which  otherwise  could 
not  have  been  far  distant.  The  funeral,  after 
due  time,  was  respectfully  attended  by  most 
of  the  inhabitants  of  Belden's  Falls  ;  and  old 
Mrs.  Barbour  was  laid  to  her  final  rest  by  the 


AUNT   BARBOUB.  283 

side  of  her  brother,  and  not  far  from  the  spot 
to  which,  so  few  months  before,  they  had  borne 
little  Lotty. 

The  night  after  the  funeral,  Mr.  Sumner 
deemed  it  proper  to  open  the  will,  now,  by  the 
late  accession  of  property,  become  quite  a 
thing  of  importance.  It  was  drawn  in  common 
form,  leaving  the  small  house,  which  she  for- 
merly occupied,  with  all  her  household  furni- 
ture and  personal  wearing  apparel,  to  her  be- 
loved niece,  Mary  Loring  Sumner  ;  but  every 
thing  else,  which  did  pertain,  or  might  here- 
after pertain  to  her,  either  as  real  estate  or 
money,  to  her  most  dearly  beloved  great 
nephew,  William  Loring  Sumner. 

"  This  she  wished,"  so  ran  the  will,  "  him  to 
possess,  in  part  as  a  proof  of  her  affection  for 
him,  and  in  part  as  a  proof  of  her  gratitude 
for  the  many  little  kind  acts  which  he  had 
performed  towards  her,  wishing  to  make  spe- 
cial mention  of  the  late  occasion  upon  which, 
to  save  her  old  life,  he  had  risked  his  own." 


284  WIN   AND    WEAR. 

She  expressed,  in  language  which  must  have 
been  her  own,  the  hope  that  "  he  would  possess 
as  many  thousand  dollars  as  he  had  incurred 
blisters  on  his  hands  on  her  account." 

Our  story  now  draws  rapidly  to  its  conclu- 
sion. We  shall  detain  the  readers  for  but  a 
few  pages  more. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Sumner  deemed  it  prudent  to 
keep  Willie  in  ignorance  of  the  great  good 
fortune  that  had  befallen  him.  "  He  will  make 
a  better  and  a  truer  man  to  exert  himself  just 
as  far  as  his  strength  and  health  will  allow," 
said  his  wise  mother.  "  He  shall  feel  that  his 
education  will  no  longer  be  impossible,  or  ac- 
complished with  sacrifices  on  our  part ;  but  fur- 
ther than  that  will  not  be  for  his  future  good." 

Mr.  Sumner  perfectly  agreed  with  her,  and 
they  therefore  resolved,  with  the  exception  of 
Mr.  Ashton,  to  make  the  will  known  to  no 
one.  The  amount  of  property  could  not  be 
settled  until  after  a  prolonged  litigation,  so 
that  nothing  was  of  course  definitely  known, 


AUNT   BARBOUR.  28S 

And  therefore  the  registry  in  the  Probate 
Court  was  conducted  privately  and  quietly. 

Willie  could  now,  in  all  probability,  have 
been  sent  away  from  Belden's  Falls  to  some 
famous  academy  in  which  to  complete  his  fit- 
ting for  college  ;  but  his  parents  had  the  good 
sense  to  be  satisfied  with  "  well  enough,"  and 
to  know  that  there  is  no  place  in  the  wide 
world  so  good  for  the  entire  and  symmetrical 
development  of  a  boy,  as  at  home  under  the 
watchful  eye  of  judicious  parents.  So  Willie 
and  James  passed  their  preparatory  years  to- 
gether, growing  to  love  one  another  more  and 
more,  as  time  sped  on  ;  and,  entering  the  same 
college,  they  became  roommates, — Willie,  with 
his  high  principles  and  his  deep  seated  relig- 
ious faith,  keeping  steady  James's  warm  and 
more  impulsive  nature  ;  and  James,  with  the 
genial  glow  of  a  happy,  generous  heart,  throw- 
ing such  a  warm,  glad  light  all  around  the 
arduous,  and  oftentimes  difficult  path  of  study. 
Thus  Willie  forgot,  in  its  brightness,  many 


286  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

weary  hours — hours  when  the  memory  of  those 
early  days  of  suffering  and  want  was  forced 
upon  him  by  the  trembling  nerves  and  often 
failing  strength  which  he  had  then  fastened 
upon  him  for  life. 

But  what  of  Willie's  purposes  for  the  future  ? 
Have  we  lost  our  minister  boy  ?  By  no  means. 
Willie  does  not  read  his  grandfather's  old 
sermons  any  longer,  for  he  is  looking  forward 
soon  to  writing  them  for  himself. 

Early  and  late,  in  season  and  out  of  season, 
waking  with  him  when  he  opens  his  eyes  in  the 
morning,  and  blending  with  his  dreams  at 
night,  come  back  to  the  young  man  the  boy's 
fond  wishes.  And  the  goal  is  now  nearly 
reached.  He  is  winning  the  prize.  We  cannot 
refrain  from  a  few  words  in  a  parting  chapter, 
to  say  how  he  ivears  it. 


XIV. 


npHE  same  bell  which,  in  our  opening  chapter, 
•*-  the  crowd  of  little  listeners  were  waiting 
to  hear  chime  the  hour  of  noon,  now  sends 
forth  from  the  church  belfry  in  Belden's  Falls 
its  slow  inviting  notes.  It  is  a  beautiful  Suu- 
day  morning  in  June.  The  fresh  green  leaves 
glisten  in  the  bright  summer  sun,  and  bend 
their  tender  heads  at  the  touch  of  the  soft 
breeze,  as  if  conscious  it  had  been  sent  to  make 
them  assume  the  attitude  of  worshippers 
Every  little  hillock  is  gay  with  early  flowers, 
and  the  very  air  is  laden  with  the  breath  of 
nature's  sweetest  incense  —  its  offering  upon 
God's  altar  —  purer  and  more  fragrant  than  the 
myrrh  and  frankincense  which  ascended  at  His 
command  from  the  temples  made  with  hands. 
Brooding  over  the  whole,  with  that  ineffable 

(287) 


288  WIN    AND    WEAR. 

charm  which  a  low,  musical  sound  can  alone 
impart  to  a  scene,  was  heard  the  dash  of  the 
endless  water,  as,  rejoicing  like  every  thing 
else  to  have  its  six  days'  work  done,  it  was 
rushing  and  tumbling  over  the  smooth  rocks, 
sending  up  its  spray,  glowing  like  God's  rain- 
bow, and  so  audibly  and  visibly  offering  up 
its  Sabbath  hymn. 

Groups  of  well-dressed  people  began  to  wend 
their  way  toward  the  church  at  the  call  of  the 
bell.  Those  accustomed  to  read  the  faces  of 
these  quiet  inhabitants  could  readily  discern 
that  there  was  some  object  to-day  of  unusual 
interest ;  something  which  had  waked  to  a 
quicker  beat  the  somewhat  regular  motion  of 
their  hearts. 

There  was  a  little  the  look  of  a  holiday, 
though  all  was  perfectly  quiet  and  sedate,  as 
became  holy  hours.  Every  body  has  come  out. 
There  is  old  Mrs.  Judkins.  She  has  never 
been  in  church,  so  severe  has  been  her  rheu- 
matism, since  the  minister,  Mr.  Loring,  died. 


THE   CONCLUSION.  289 

But1  she  has  her  crutch  to-day,  anl  Deacon 
Webb  has  stopped  at  her  door,  with  his  two- 
horse  wagon,  to  give  her  a  ride.  See !  he  helps 
her  as  tenderly  up  those  steps,  as  if  she  were 
his  own  aged  mother  ;  and  once  more,  before 
she  is  "  borne  in,"  the  old  lady  shall  come  near 
the  mercy-seat  which  is  placed  in  the  sanctuary. 

John  Dobey,  wicked,  forsaken  being  that  he 
is,  with  so  many  years  between  him  and  the 
time  when  he  sat  there  before,  has  come  up 
now,  because  he  has  had  an  invitation  from 
the  young  squire.  God  may  have  been  waiting 
there  for  him  all  these  long  years,  and  will 
meet  him  here  to-day.  Those  who  have  been 
too  busy  to  attend  church,  and  those  who  have 
been  too  idle,  are  on  their  way  to-day ;  and  all 
the  time  the  bells  ring  on  steadily,  clearly,  as 
all  our  calls  come  from  God,  if  we  would  but 
listen. 

Before  the  bell  tolls,  the  church  is  filled. 
Who  ever  remembers  to  have  seen  so  great  a 
crowd  there  befcre?  Around  the  porch,  out 
25 


290  WIN   AND   WEAK. 

upon  the  steps,  sitting  on  the  posts  which1  sur- 
round the  churchyard,  are  young  men  and 
boys,  and  all  look  in  one  direction  ;  they  arc 
intent  upon  seeing  the  same  tiling.  Pretty 
soon  there  is  a  stir  among  tHem;  the  smallest 
boys  run  forward  up  the  road,  then  return  to , 
hide  themselves  behind  some  corner  of  the 
yard. 

"  They  are  coming ! "  Many  repeat  it,  but 
softly !  for  it  is  the  Lord's  day.  Presently 
an  open  wagon,  drawn  by  squire  Ashton's  two 
bay  horses,  with  the  young  squire  himself 
driving,  comes  in  sight,  followed  by  another 
covered  carriage. 

"  They  are  all  together,"  says  some  one,  and 
the  excitement  is  at  its  height;  but  so  quiet 
and  respectful,  that  but  for  one  or  two  step- 
ping forward  to  hold  the  horses'  heads  as  they 
stop,  no  one  could  perceive  any  thing  unusual 
in  the  crowd. 

James  Ashton — now,  as  our  readers  will  have 
Surmised,  the  young  squire,  or  "  square,"  as  the 


THE    CONCLUSION.  291 

people  called  him — is  just  as  handsome,  just  ag 
happy,  and  just  as  good  as  when  he  was  a  boy. 
Every  body  loves  him.  He  is  generous,  noble, 
and  thoughtful  for  the  poor.  He  does  not  live 
in  Belden's  Falls  ;  but  he  comes  home  so  often 
from  his  office  in  the  city,  that  all  the  inhabi- 
tants feel  as  if  he  belonged  to  them.  He  is 
their  son,  or  their  brother,  or  their  dearest 
friend.  They  have  a  special  claim  upon  him,  as 
if,  by  some  peculiar  freak  of  nature,  he  was 
a  blood  relation  of  them  all.  He  remembers 
it  is  Sunday ;  but  it  takes  all  the  self-control 
of  which  he  is  master,  to  keep  down  the  merrj, 
hearty  welcome  which  rises  to  his  lips  as  natu- 
rally as  his  very  breath,  when  he  sees  so  many 
dear,  familiar  faces.  He  tries  to  look,  noi 
grave,  but  befittingly  sober,  as  he  hands  out 
first  his  mother,  over  whose  face  lies  a  deep, 
quiet  light,  like  that  of  the  stars ;  then  the 
young  people,  his  half-grown  brothers  and 
sisters ;  and  then  his  father,  who  has,  though  he 
thinks  no  one  suspects  it,  stayed  on  his  seat 


292  WIN    AND  WEAR, 

hoping  to  conquer  the  emotion  which  wells  up 
so  freshly  as  he  recalls  the  past.  But  his  turn 
has  come,  and  he  conceals  what  he  feels  by 
giving  the  minutest  directions  about  the  horses. 

But  who  is  in  this  covered  carriage  ?  Some 
one  who  is  very  welcome  ;  for,  in  spite  of  the 
day,  and  the  good  resolutions,  it  is  immedi- 
ately surrounded  by  the  watching  crowd. 
What  a  shaking  of  hands  !  Will  it  ever  cease  ? 
for  they  go  first  to  the  front,  then  to  the  back 
seat ;  and  their  pleased  faces  show  that  they 
find  a  very  cordial  reception. 

The  bell  keeps  on  tolling,  tolling.  The  sex 
ton  is  evidently  growing  weary ;  so  the  carriage 
door  is  opened,  and  Mrs.  Sumner,  with  her 
pale  but  still  beautiful  face,  is  almost  helped 
out.  There  is  a  shrinking  timidity  in  her  whole 
bearing.  But  Willie  is  now  by  her  side  ;  he 
has  put  her  arm  within  his,  and  she  feels  that 
it  is  hers  alone  that  trembles  ;  his  is  firm  and 
strong.  How  quickly  it  gives  her  courage ! 
There  is  something  in  a  touch  oftentimes  more 


THE   CONCLUSION.  293 

eloquent  than  words.  Willie  gives  one  glance 
over  his  shoulder  at  a  young,  beautiful  girl, 
with  eyes  so  blue  that  it  almost  seems  as  if 
the  sky  were  sleeping  there.  It  is  a  demure 
little  face,  schooling  itself  to  hide  away  the 
joy  and  happiness,  far,  far  out  of  sight,  down 
in  the  depths  of  its  own  heart ;  but  it  is  too 
full,  it  is  running  over,  and  looking  through 
that  sky,  as  the  stars  look  out  on  a  cloudless 
night.  Not  even  the  plain  dress,  and  the  neat 
bonnet,  trimmed  only  with  a  simple  white  rib- 
bon, can  make  the  graceful,  lifeful  thing  bear 
herself  with  the  sober  dignity  becoming  a 
minister's  wife.  She  feels  it  all,  and  a  shy 
consciousness  gives  her  a  half-meek,  half-be- 
seeching air,  which,  if  she  only  knew  it,  makes 
her  much  more,  charming. 

r'Lina,"  Willie  whispers,  as  he  drops  a 
moment  behind  his  mother,  on  the  church 
steps,  >:  sit  next  to  father,  in  church,  he  will 
be  so  proud  of  you."  And  so  they  file  in. 
Willie  and  his  mother.  Mr.  Sumner,  grown 
25* 


294  WIH    AND   WEAR. 

old,  but  bearing  with  his  years  marks  of  so- 
briety, intelligence,  and  "  the  well  to  do  in  the 
world  "  look,  which  shows  itself  so  clearly  if 
success  attends  middle  life.  Willie  is  "  proud" 
of  his  father  now,  and  has  good  reason  to  be. 
With  him  comes  Lina,  not  Lina  Ashton  any 
longer,  but  Lina  Sumner  now. 

Perhaps,  as  she  takes  her  seat  in  church,  she 
remembers  how,  when  they  were  children,  she 
had  to  lose  her  place  because  her  husband  at 
the  examination  gave  her  too  difficult  a  word. 
Perhaps  she  is  going  back  over  all  these 
years,  and  wondering  that  she  did  not  know 
how  much  they  loved  each  other  even  then. 

Now  comes  Warren — Mr.  Ashton's  head  man 
in  the  care  of  his  extensive  factory  business — 
stout  and  manly.  Neither  care  nor  study  has 
left  a  mark  upon  his  face  ;  but  he  is  a  man  for 
all  that,  and  one  of  these  days  shall  make  good 
Mr.  Ashton's  place.  And  with  him  comes 
"  the  baby."  What  a  large  child  she  has  grown 
lobe!  She  is  larger  wow  than  Lotty  was  when 


THE   CONCLUSION.  295 

they  missed  her  from  among  them ;  but  she  has 
a  look  so  mirh  like  the  dead  child  in  her  face, 
and  in  her  winning,  pretty  ways,  that  her 
mother  often  wonders  if  this  is  not  a  kind  gift 
of  God  to  lighten  the  sadness  which  falls  upon 
her  heart,  whenever  she  thinks  of  her  deaf  and 
dumb  child. 

Willie  waits  to  close  softly  the  door  of  the  pew ; 
then,  calm  and  self-possessed,  as  if  in  his  errand 
he  had  forgotten  the  peculiar  circumstances 
by  which  he  is  surrounded,  ascends  the  pulpit 
stairs,  and  seats  himself  beside  the  minister. 
Mr.  Ross  feels  like  a  father  to  this  "  lamb  of 
his  flock."  He  cannot  forget  him  ;  and,  rising 
to  make  the  opening  prayer,  he  leaves  not  a 
dry  eye  in  the  church,  as  he  thanks  his  God 
that  he  has  been  spared  to  offer  to  Him  anew 
this  young  servant.  And  now  that  he  was  old 
and  grey-headed,  he  wished  to  place  upon  his 
shoulders  the  consecrated  mantle  which  had 
been  anointed  with  oil  from  on  high. 
Willie — or,  as  we  must  now  call  him,  the 


296  WIN   AND    WEAR. 

Reverend  William  Simmer — followed  the  prayer 
by  reading  a  hymn.  His  voice  may  have 
faltered  at  first,  but  true  feeling-  is  deep  and 
strong,  and  his  dear  familiar  tones  reachedv 
even  to  the  hearts  of  the  most  careless  hearer 
there.  We  cannot  do  justice  to  his  sermon, 
therefore  we  leave  him  here. 

This  was  to  be  for  the  future  Ms  people,  and 
he  knew  that  he  must  bring  to  them  "  apples  of 
gold  in  pictures  of  silver." 

Mr.  Lane  stood  waiting  for  him  at  the  foot 
of  the  stairs  as  he  went  down.  Not  a  word 
did  he  trust  himself  to  say,  but  he  grasped  the 
hand  of  his  old  pupil,  which  told  of  hopes 
most  brightly  fulfilled. 

And  yet  one  other  person  stood  at  the  door, 
watching  for  his  chance. 

It  is  a  great  burly  Irishman  ;  and  his  nice 
dress,  and  the  easy  smile  upon  his  pleasant 
intelligent  face,  show  that  he  feels  he  has 
a  claim  to  be  welcomed. 

"Ah!  Jerry,  I  am  very  glad  to  see  you," 


THE    CONCLUSION.  297 

said  the  young  minister,  with  a  cordial  shake 
of  the  hand ;  "  I  shall  depend  upon  you  for  aid 
in  iny  Sunday -school !  " 

"  And  I  will  help  you,  Mr.  Sunnier,"  said  the 
rough  man,  "  as  faithfully  and  as  patiently  as 
you  taught  me  to  paste  on  cards  of  calico." 

And  now,  what  of  Aunt  Barbour's  fortune  ? 
If  any  of  my  readers  care  much  to  know,  they 
do  more  than  Willie  did. 

Mr.  Sumner  found  that  to  follow  out  the 
claims  of  the  will  would  ruin  many  a  poor 
family,  and  bring  much  distress  into  the  village 
of  Belden's  Falls,  so  he  sold  the  land  at  a  fair 
price  to  Mr.  Ashton,  and  received  beside  a 
regular  rent  for  the  land  which  the  mill  already 
covered. 

This  he  was  unwilling  to  do,  but  Mr.  Ashton 
would  take  no  denial. 

When  Willie  was  of  age  the  whole  matter 
was  stated  to  him,  and  he  agreed  fully  with 
his  father  as  to  the  true  justice  und  propriety 
of  the  cour  «j  he  had  taken.  So  now  he  came 


298  WIN   AND   WEAR. 

to  Belden's  Falls  and  settled  down  among  his 
people  with  a  clean  hand  and  an  open  heart. 

Poverty  and  suffering  had  not  crushed  him. 
Ambition  had  not  spoiled  him,  for  his  was  a 
holy  ambition  to  make  his  one  talent  ten  for 
his  Master's  use. 

Prosperity  and  wealth  were  valued  as  means 
to  accomplish  the  one  great  end.  Truly  Willie 
Sumner  has  WON  ;  he  has  now  the  right  to 

WEAR. 

THE  END. 


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